


Across The Universe

by DreamersTales



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV), Supernatural, Superwholock - Fandom
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Angels, Arguing, Awkward Flirting, Crossover, Drama, Fighting, Friendship, Funny, Multi, Superwholock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2020-10-28 23:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 38,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20786480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamersTales/pseuds/DreamersTales
Summary: Three separate universes, eight different lives. Everyone knows the Doctor has a thing about no guns, but the Winchester's have a rule too; never go anywhere without one. Captain Jack Harkness struggles to find the time to flirt with an endearing, if not odd, celestial being, and when Weeping Angels enter the mix, Sherlock wonders if maybe the Universe was bigger than he imagined.(Takes place during Season One of Doctor Who, Season One of Sherlock, and Season Five of Supernatural)





	1. Rose Tyler

***This FanFiction takes place during Season One of Doctor Who, Season One of Sherlock, and Season Five of Supernatural***

Rose had discovered during her time traveling aboard the Tardis that a bit of turbulence was normal. In fact, it was more worrisome when the machine _wasn’t_ bouncing around through the Time Vortex and sending her all over the place.

However she had found there was a fine line between those two things. On the one hand, the lack of lopsided, topsy turvy shaking usually meant trouble. On the other, an _overabundance_ often meant the same thing.

And where a new Tardis traveler might not know the difference, Rose had learned the telling signs of brewing disaster. Which led to the dawning realization that her inability to remain stable for more than two seconds at a time while rifling through her dresser meant something was _not_ as it should be.

“Doctor!”

She yelled, blowing a strand of blonde hair out of her face with an annoyed puff of air as she gave up on her hunt, deciding the search for her top was futile if the outcome ended with the entire dresser sitting on top of her.

“Doctor!”

Rose called again, stumbling her way through her bedroom door and out into the corridor as her shoulder collided with the wall. She could feel the termers running through the framework, the machine’s engines louder than usual in her ears as she kept walking, each step a struggle as the machine tilted and threatened to send the girl tumbling back into one of the many swimming pools or libraries the Doctor insisted on keeping.

“Doctor, what-“

Her next cry was cut off as the Tardis jerked hard to the left, sending her flying across the hall. Bracing for impact, Rose was surprised to land instead in the arms of her fellow time traveler, Jack’s face beaming down at her as his arms wrapped tight around her body.

“You just can’t stop falling for me, can you?”

He asked, a cheeky grin prominent on his face as Rose rolled her eyes with a smile and grabbed his arm to steady herself.

“Do you know what’s happening?”

“No idea, was just going to find out when I saw your attempt at flying.”

“Suppose I failed a bit at that, yeah?”

“Maybe just a bit.”

He teased, helping her stand upright as the machine bounced again, the Tardis jolting as though it had hit a ramp that sent it careening even faster into space. Hand in hand the two made their way towards the control room, each grabbing a different wall as they tried to keep their balance.

“Did we enter a race that I wasn’t aware of?”

Jack called from the doorway, his arm pushing Rose closer to the railing as the blonde grabbed hold and proceeded to pull the Time Agent next to her. In the middle of the room surrounded by massive pillars that towered high was the console that controlled the spacecraft. And there, bouncing around the machine that was aglow with a multitude of blinking buttons and winding levers and strange twisting orbs was a tall man clad in a leather jacket.

He was moving to and fro, as if he were in the midst of some type of dance, his hands outstretched and his fingers drifting over various controls. It was mesmerizing to watch on any normal occasion, but Rose had other things on her mind, mainly the whiplash his machine was attempting to give her.

“Doctor, what’s going on?”

The blonde demanded as she fought her way up the incline, tugging on the rails with each step as the Tardis spun around madly.

“It’s throwing a fit, I can’t explain it!”

The Doctor huffed in exasperation, slamming his hand down on a large yellow button before pulling on a zigzagged plotter.

“Have you tried readjusting the axis on the particle distributer?”

Jack’s voice rang out as he pulled himself around Rose and fell towards the control panel.

“Course I have, I’m not an idiot!” The Doctor shouted back, though his face betrayed him as the faintest glimpse of confusion darted across the alien’s face. In a swift movement the Doctor swung himself around to his computer screen, typing a few commands into it as he swung back around and flipped two switches and pulled a lever. “See? It’s fine!”

He snapped, The Tardis picking up speed as Rose wrapped her arms tightly around the railing, crouching down as the motion kept her from moving any closer.

“Doctor, it’s getting worse!”

Rose warned, closing her eyes as her stomach flipped with the machine, her breakfast from the Titan’s Baazar that morning churning uncomfortably.

“I’ve got that, thanks.”

The man stated snidely, the sound of him hitting more buttons little relief to her as she dared to glance up. She regretted it the moment she had, the Doctor’s fist hitting a button that caused the machine to flip upside down. Screaming, Rose found herself dangling from the bars of the railing, her arms burning as her feet swung through open air.

“Not helping!”

Jack yelled from somewhere behind her, the lights in the machine flickering on and off before the Tardis flipped back over and righted itself. Landing in a heap, Rose caught her breath as the machine began to slow down.

“There, now we just-“

Like a slingshot propelling them the Tardis suddenly launched backwards at an alarming rate, sending its passengers flying through its control room. Sliding down the ramp, Rose missed the rails and instead her fingers caught ahold of the doorframe as she held on as tight as she could.

It seemed to last forever, the machine jettisoning through the Time Vortex until something hit the side and an explosion sent the Tardis reeling. Rose was certain they weren’t going to make it, her grip on the doorframe beginning to fail as she screamed, the Doctor’s and Jack’s voices melding with hers before the Tardis crashed and the lights throughout simultaneously blacked out.

It was deathly silent for several moments as Rose’s next few breaths shook out of her, the death grip she’d had on the door falling slack as she carefully pulled her arms into her chest. She wasn’t sure if it was her body or the machine that was shaking anymore, but it didn’t really matter, she was alive.

Emergency lights began to pulse an unnerving green as Rose carefully sat up, her body sore as she ran trembling fingers through her hair.

“Are you alright?”

The Doctor knelt beside her, concerned eyes flitting over her face as the girl nodded. Offering her a hand, the man pulled her to her feet and looked her up and down, assessing any damage as she rubbed her arms, feeling several bruises she was sure to have later.

She did a quick assessment of her own, making sure the alien didn’t have any injuries before she landed on his eyes, not even remotely surprised at the excited glimmer mixed with only an ounce of unease.

“Where’s Jack?”

She questioned, peering around the Doctor. In the weak light she could tell that no one else was near the controls, and there wasn’t anyone on either of the ramps.

“Jack?”

The Doctor shouted, turning around and looking for his missing companion.

“Jack!”

Rose yelled, worry evident on her face as she stepped into the corridor and peered through the dull lighting. She was about to call again when a pained grunt echoed through one of the halls and both Rose and the Doctor turned towards the sound.

“Doctor, you’ve really got to cut back on the swimming pools. I’m all for a little wet and wild fun, but how many do you have now, seven? At least get them some better doors.”

The Time Agent complained, making his way towards them as water dripped from his soaking clothes. Rose let out a sigh of relief until the man drew closer and she spotted a streak of red dripping down his forehead.

“You’re hurt.”

She breathed, running to meet him as the man smiled at her, a cocky grin on his face that turned into a grimace the moment she touched the edge of the gash above his left eye.

“I’m okay, Rose. Doctor, what happened?”

He asked, gently pushing the girl’s hands away as he looked over Rose’s shoulder at the alien. Turning to face the Doctor, the alien stared at the two for a moment before he was bounding back up towards his controls with the two companions trailing behind him.

“Don’t know, we could’ve caught a nasty Time Current and got pulled along for the ride.”

He said, moving to the monitor as he typed something into the computer.

“The Tardis? Doesn’t really seem like something that could knock it around that much.”

Jack countered, narrowing his eyes at the alien who refused to look at them.

“Is it dead?”

Rose asked warily, her fingers brushing over one of the columns.

“Course not! Just a bit shook up. Whatever happened took a bit out of the old thing, it’ll be fine once it has time to relax.”

“What do you think really happened?”

Jack asked, walking closer to him as the Doctor glanced up, a grim expression on his face.

“I think something pulled us here, and not a lot of things can do that.”

“Where are we?”

Stepping closer to the doors, Rose looked at the alien as his expression morphed into one of controlled excitement. Of course. Leave it to the Doctor to find excitement in the most unusual and dangerous of places. Not that she or Jack were any better.

Instead of answering the girl’s question, the Doctor gestured to the doors, encouraging her to open them and see for herself. Excitement and nerves bubbled up inside her as Rose pulled open the door and stepped outside.

Snow crunched beneath the blonde’s feet as she stepped away from the Tardis, wandering eyes looking up at the flakes that drifted down to the earth where her footprints marred the previously pure snowfall.

Taking a few more steps and turning back to the machine, Rose’s eyes widened as she stared at where the Tardis had crash landed, half crushing a bin beneath its massive weight.

“Where are we?”

Jack asked, shivering in his wet clothes as he trailed after Rose, squinting up at the early morning sky as snow clung to his wet hair.

“Earth, England, Rose’s time.”

The Doctor offered, closing the door of the Tardis behind him as he shoved his hands inside his pockets and took his own look around.

“I’m home?”

Rose asked, turning back to the street in confusion. It obviously wasn’t the Powell Estate, and usually when they returned to her time the Tardis materialized by her mum’s flat, or very near it at least. But this wasn’t anywhere close to her home.

The buildings weren’t as tall and they looked older, and the street though empty then looked as if might get quite a bit of traffic. It was beautiful really, especially with the snow, but something about it felt off.

Moving in a slow circle, soft brown eyes landed on two men a few yards off, simply standing in the middle of the street and staring directly at them.

“Doctor?”

Rose murmured, already wondering what sort of damage control the man might have to do to ease the situation. She doubted they could get away with public property damage when there were witnesses, even with the Doctor’s talent of getting out of trouble.

“It’s Earth alright, but something seems odd. Does the ground seem more springy to you?”

The Doctor inquired, moving around off to her left before dropping to the ground and poking at the snow, a look of distaste on his face.

“Doctor, would you listen?” She hissed, watching as the two men spoke to each other, though their eyes remained firm on their trio. “Doctor! There are people watching us so would you quit muckin about!”

Rose chided, catching the offended look the man shot her way.

“Oi! I don’t muck about!”

“There’s something you should see, Doctor.” Jack mused, his voice quiet as he walked between the two of them. “Have you seen the street signs?”

“What’s so important about a sign? It’s this snow that feels off.”

“I don’t believe it. Doctor, right there, it says ‘Baker Street’ on the sign.”

Jack’s voice rose, his eyes widening as Rose turned back to the two men.

“Oh my God..”

She whispered as the Doctor stood again.

“What are you two on about?”

“That building those two came out of, Doctor, look at the door numbers.”

“221b.”

The Doctor read aloud, the realization striking him as he turned to look at his companions. Rose’s attention was elsewhere however, watching as the taller of the two men who wore a long black coat began walking straight towards them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> Hello my lovely readers! I’m so glad to come back to the beginning and finally do some very important cleanup work to this story. I wrote this many years ago, and the first chapter here was published what, two years back? Needless to say my writing style has changed massively and this story was so cringe to reread. I plan to update all the chapters, and finally conclude this story.  
Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me through this process, your reviews mean the world to me! I hope you’ll find the new chapters refreshing and more palatable, especially as quite a bit will be changing throughout each one!


	2. John Watson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> Been a while since I updated, but here we go! I had such a hard time reading through the old chapter, why is it so, so cringe to read your old stuff? Anyway, hopefully this one is much better, and I hope you guys enjoy! Leave me a review if you want, they always brighten up my day!

He awoke with a start, his body jerking upright in bed as heavy breaths forced their way out of him. Sweat ran down the back of his neck and had gathered at his temples as John’s eyes flickered around his darkened room.

He wasn’t sure what he was looking for or if he was expecting something to be lurking in the darkness, but the flat was still and quiet, something that was rare anymore with Sherlock’s constant complaining.

Tightening his fingers into fists beside him, John drew in a slow, calming breath before a shorter, more ragged one shuddered out. He hadn’t slept peacefully in days and the nightmares were getting progressively worse.

Each dream was just a different take on the same horrific event, though it always ended the same. Overwhelming fire, stabbing pain and crumbling walls that collapsed around him. He could still feel the weight on his chest, the frantic way Sherlock had ripped the vest from him, the condescending laughter of Moriarty.

He thought he was going to die. He thought Sherlock was going to die. All at the hand of some psychotic man with a grudge against his flat mate.

John had been in trying situations before, though most were due to Sherlock being a thoughtless ass, but he hadn’t felt panic like that in a long time.

He knew the reason, of course. The heat, the explosions, the weight tight around him. It all reminded him far too much of his time during the war.

He’d told himself a thousand times that it was over, that he had no reason to hold onto that fear. Yet a thousand and one times he’d had those dreams and he’d awoken with little rest and a speeding heart that assured him no more sleep would be granted no matter how hard he might try.

Sherlock had noticed his behavior, of course he had. That annoying man noticed everything. But to his credit he’d found the detective had not questioned him about it. A fact he knew would run its course in time, it wasn’t in Sherlock’s taste to mind his own business.

But he’d let things slide, never questioning why the army doctor was always awake before the sun or why such dark circles had been prominent under his eyes more often than not. He’d not even done more than pass a brief glance his way whenever they left their flat, John always without his coat despite the chill in the winter air.

Sherlock had seemed unfazed by the whole affair, a fact that John had yet to fully understand. He’d only shown a glimpse of panic when he was pulling the vest off of him. But then it was gone. He’d gone back to being stoic, to trying to figure out what he could about Moriarty. And John had been left with the ghost of the terror he’d felt that night.

Throwing back the quilt that had already fallen partially from his bed, the blonde ran his hands over his face and through his hair before swinging his legs over the mattress and rising, his body wavering as he inhaled a deep breath. It was over. He could breathe. He needed to breathe.

Tugging on his clothes and padding his way towards the kitchen, he eased his door open and slipped through, the stillness of early morning a cruel reminder of the sleep that had evaded him yet again. Though it wasn’t often that he could relish in the silence when his flat mate was home.

His actions were done almost mechanically, little more than a force of habit that had him filling the kettle and retrieving his laptop while settling into his chair.

Lifting the edge of his computer open, the screen brightened and blinded the man, John squinting until his eyes adjusted to the light and he glanced at the corner for the time. _4:43_ glowed at him mockingly as he leaned back with a frown. He was waking earlier and earlier anymore; he really needed to do something about it all.

Sighing softly, the man let his eyes fall shut in a moment of desperate hope, a piece of him willing to let the detective find him like that later if only he could obtain even another hour of rest. And maybe he might have if he hadn’t felt the straps tightening around his chest or breathed heavier at the weight of the bomb crushing against him.

His next breath rattled out in a panicked hitch, the look on Sherlock’s face playing through his mind. Desperate and fearful; expression’s he rarely saw no matter how brief. The look they’d shared just before..

The room fell apart in his mind, the explosion sending pieces of debris and bloodied limbs flying through the air as John jolted, barely catching the computer before it tumbled to the floor.

His hands were shaking, the tip of his tongue wetting his lips as he breathed shallowly. He hated how it had happened. How two different nightmares had converged into one horrific scene that plagued his mind over and over again.

The heat of the fire burning his skin, creeping up his sleeves and triggering the weight that tore him apart. He couldn’t make it stop, he couldn’t run away he couldn’t escape it no matter how hard he tried.

And as his eyes settled on the laptop screen, the little line blinking away and daring him to write about it, he felt his world cracking. It was crumbling, slipping away with each thought. Again and again and again. Fire and fear and an inescapable hell.

Pushing himself out of his chair and placing the laptop rather roughly on the table, John strode towards the kitchen and pulled the kettle off before it could scream.

He just needed a distraction, that was all. Something to take his mind off such ridiculous thoughts. Opening the fridge and peering inside, a look of disgust crossed the blonde’s face as he dropped his head and sighed.

“I told him to pick up milk..” He muttered, letting the door slam shut. It was a futile effort, he didn’t know why he even bothered to try anymore. Sherlock was too self-absorbed to worry about things such as shopping, leaving such trivial matters up to John instead.

Of course it didn’t stop the detective from using those things himself, but if John thought about that for too long he found himself pondering whether or not he knew enough to get away with hiding the other man’s body.

Pouring a mug of tea and returning to his seat, he stared towards his computer that seemed to glare at him in disapproval.

He needed to update his blog, needed to work on something that would get his mind off of things. But the only story he had left to tell was the story he was desperate to forget. And while John thoroughly enjoyed the cases the he and Sherlock solved, the army doctor found more and more that they ended up in the same scenarios. It was hard to ignore the threat to his life when it seemed to happen every time they wound up chasing after some criminal who had little regard for another’s wellbeing.

Shifting his chair to gaze out the window, John’s hands wrapped around the warm mug while letting the silence of their flat wash over him.

How long he sat watching the world outside he wasn’t sure, only knowing that by the time morning had begun to make its appearance he was already on his third cup of tea and had yet to pick his computer up again.

Snow fell in gentle waves outside the window, small flakes dancing to a melody no one else could hear as they clung to everything they could, decorating the world in a soft blanket of white. It looked as though it would be a pleasant day out, though John would rather stay indoors and view it from afar.

However knowing Sherlock, he would make any time spent within the walls as insufferable as possible. The man needed some kind of hobby for when there were no cases. He was nothing more than a child when he lounged across the sofa and complained endlessly about how _bored_ he was.

Lifting his mug and taking another sip, the familiar creak of the other’s door alerted the army doctor to another soul rising, his gaze shifting to the bedraggled detective standing against his doorframe staring blankly at the other.

“Morning.” He offered, barely casting another look towards the raven haired individual as he looked back outside.

“You’ve been dreaming again.” A gruff voice uttered in a low tone that still held the traces of a man not fully awake.

“And you forgot to buy milk, _again_.” He spoke coolly, his fingers tapping the rim of his mug.

“How long have you been awake?” He could feel the penetrating gaze burning a hole through him, already knowing that the detective had taken note of his open computer and the way John was settled comfortably in his chair.

“Long enough to make tea.” Barely lifting his mug in response, he cut his eyes towards his flat mate as Sherlock disappeared inside his room, closing the door sharply as John sighed.

He didn’t have the energy to deal with Sherlock’s antics today. Maybe he would go somewhere just for a break.

Pushing himself out of his chair and carefully closing his computer, John wandered over to the window and peered outside, the snow untouched on the street below.

Glancing up at the grey sky, he stared up at the clouds and took another drink. He was surprised Sherlock was awake so early, though perhaps that’s why he’d returned to his room. He could live with that, another few hours alone might actually inspire him to getting around to the blog he’d been dutiful in procrastinating.

Beginning to turn away, a dark shape moving through the clouds caught the man’s eye, John tilting his head and narrowing his eyes at the strange bird veering oddly through the sky. No, it wasn’t a bird. Was it an aircraft?

Setting his mug on the dresser beside him, John leaned closer and peered up at the dark shape that was growing dangerously close, still swooping and twisting as if out of control.

Gripping the windowsill, John’s mouth fell open in shock. It was a box. A blue box careening through the sky. A flying blue box. Oh God, he was finally going insane wasn’t he? The lack of sleep had finally caught up with him.

“What are you looking at?” Sherlock’s voice spoke above him, John’s eyes flickering up as he pointed outside.

“It’s a box, a flying box. How can there be a _box_ flying through the sky?” He demanded as the detective leaned closer, both watching as the box spiraled uncontrollably, growing closer and closer until it crashed across the street, destroying a bin beneath its weight.

“John.” Sherlock called, already out the door as the blonde grabbed his scarf and hurried after him, his mind racing as he nearly ran into their landlady.

“Good morning, boys, you’re up early!” She smiled pleasantly, unfazed as Sherlock dashed past her.

“Sorry, Mrs. Hudson, not now.” John apologized quickly as he burst through the door and stumbled to a stop beside Sherlock.

The door to the box was open and the army doctor watched in awe as three people stepped outside and looked around. How they all managed to fit in such a tight space was a strange enough question, but the way the man in the heavy leather jumper was inspecting the snow was even stranger.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t get involved.” John ventured, watching the trio as Sherlock’s eyes narrowed.

“And what, call Mycroft?” The detective scoffed, beginning to stride towards the group as John grumbled under his breath. It wasn’t as if they could go back now anyway, the three were watching them as intently as they’d done.

Aside from the man in the jumper was a blonde girl and another man that looked younger than the first, and who stood there in clothes that were soaking wet. It was the middle of winter, who went outside in wet clothes in the middle of _winter_?

“Hello there!” The man who’d been studying the snow waved exaggeratedly, a wide grin plastered on his face. He was rather tall, with a demeanor that practically bled confidence and knowledge.

One look at Sherlock and he could tell he was sizing the man up, not bothering to pay any attention to the other two after an initial cursory glance. And why should he? It was obvious the man with the northern accent was the one in charge.

“I’m the Doctor! And who are you?” The man introduced himself, taking a step forwards to meet them as John frowned.

“Doctor? Doctor of what?” He asked as the stranger’s eyes flashed in amusement.

“Doctor of everything!”

“Sherlock Holmes.” His flat mate interjected, attracting the other two’s undivided attention now.

Peering around the ‘Doctor’ John got a better look at the other two. Or rather he got a better look at the second man, who he now noticed was holding a handful of snow against what appeared to be a head injury.

“Sherlock Holmes, like the stories?” The taller man asked, his eyes widening as he leaned forwards.

“Stories?” John repeated, curious if he was talking about his blog.

“Hi, Captain Jack Harkness.” The second man, an American evidently, interrupted the blonde’s thoughts, his hand outstretching to the army doctor.

“Stop that.” The Doctor frowned, casting him a disapproving glare as the man dropped his hand.

“I’m just saying hello.”

“It’s never _just_ hello with you.” He chided as the young woman edged forwards, her brown eyes unable to pull away from Sherlock.

“You’re tellin’ me that they’re the two from those books? The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson?” She gaped, eyes now flickering between the two of them.

“Books?” John questioned, confusion weighing over him as he cut his eyes to Sherlock who had a faint glimmer in his own.

“Oh good,” John muttered, rolling his eyes. “He needed an ego boost this morning, thanks.”

Pulling away from the group and shifting his curiosity to the blue box, he read the text displayed on all sides. What exactly was a police public call box?

Glancing back, Sherlock and the strange Doctor were discussing things amongst themselves, and he had a feeling it was nothing that would interest him in the slightest. At least not nearly as much as the odd box.

“Hello, I’m Rose. Rose Tyler.” The woman finally introduced herself, a kind smile on her face as she stepped closer to him.

“John Watson, though I suppose you already knew that. That’s wood. How were you flying a wooden box round the place?” He asked, walking forwards and reaching out his hand.

There was a moment of hesitation, as if he could feel the box drawing him closer. Which was ridiculous of course, who ever heard of a wooden box reaching out to someone?

Placing his palm on the side of the panel, the light on the top brightened, pulsing at a steady pace. A loud and unpleasant sort of wheezing began to emanate from it as John stumbled away, startled by the sudden shift in the air as the Doctor peered over his shoulder.

His eyes grew wide before he was pulling away from the detective and darting towards the box. Pushing the door open and disappearing inside, John stepped back towards his flat mate and found him as unsure as he was.

“Doctor?” Rose called out, starting to peer inside as the Doctor’s head poked out and he met the two men’s gaze. There was something about his eyes that John felt unnerved about, a mischievous glint that he’d often seen in Sherlock’s eyes whenever he was in the midst of one of his experiments.

“Come on then, plenty of room inside!” He grinned madly, ducking back inside as the other two took off after him.

“Plenty of room?” John murmured, his gaze flitting over the compact box that was surely already at its capacity with the trio inside. “Sherlock, I don’t think we-“ John began, his words fading out as his flat mate took two small steps forwards, his hands buried in his coat pockets as he leaned closer to see inside the box.

“Well come on! We haven’t got all day, it’s about to leave!” The Doctor’s voice echoed out as Sherlock disappeared inside, leaving John sighing heavily behind him.

“Let’s follow the strange man inside the tiny box, that seems like a perfectly sound idea.” He mumbled, following after the detective like always as he walked to the door, the warmth from inside inviting him in.


	3. Dean Winchester

It was too damn early. Dean had never been a morning person to begin with but when the sun had only been up for what, half an hour? Forty five minutes? That was _too_ early.

Stifling a yawn, he leaned back across the seats of the Impala and tapped his fingers against the upholstery to the rhythm of a Boston song.

“Sam!” He yelled, the windows of his car rolled down as a breeze filtered in and carried his voice across the empty parking lot. “Hurry up!”

Closing his eyes and pressing the tip of his boot against the driver’s side door Dean’s mind wandered as he waited for his younger brother.

Sam had been on the phone when he’d gone outside, unable to listen to him spit balling theories with Bobby for one more second. Or maybe it was because of something else, something he wasn’t willing to admit, even to himself.

The knot in the man’s stomach twisted painfully as the hunter reached out his hand to turn up the volume of his music and quiet the stream of thoughts in his head.

He didn’t want to think about that; didn’t want to think about the question that seemed to always be present in his mind.

_Just say yes._

No, that wouldn’t solve anything. He _knew_ it wouldn’t solve anything. Besides, the minute he said yes it would be like throwing his little brother under the bus and there was no way in _hell_ he was _ever_ letting Sam party it up with the devil himself. No matter what it took he was keeping those grubby hands _off_ his brother.

And yet it still pushed at him, a never ending iron burning into his mind. A ‘gift’ from Zach he was sure, though he wished he could send it back. He was tired of it shoving against him and the weight seemed to grow heavier the longer time passed.

Tilting his head back and peering up at the sky through the window, the fading colors of the sunrise were a calming view. Letting his eyes fall shut again, he inhaled a deep breath of the morning air.

If Sam took much longer he was going to fall asleep again. Not that he didn’t need it, he missed the days where he was lucky enough to get a full night of sleep. Or at least his version of a full night which consisted of three to five hours of pure uninterrupted bliss from angels, demons, or his family.

A shadow shifted above the hunter and as he opened one eye to see what caused it he found himself starting at the dark haired angel standing right on the other side of the door staring down at him.

“Damnit, Cas!” Dean yelled, shoving himself up and turning to glare at the other over his shoulder. “What have we talked about just popping in unannounced?”

Running a hand down his face and turning off the music which had shifted to a guitar rift by Jimi Hendrix, Dean slid back over to the driver’s side and pushed the door open.

“I don’t recall this conversation.” Castiel mused, looking over the top of the car as Dean shot a dirty look his way.

“Sam!” He shouted again, resting his arms against his baby as he felt a headache spreading through his skull. Funny how that always happened whenever a celestial being was around.

“Quit yelling, Dean, I’m right here.” His younger brother huffed, pulling the motel door shut behind him as he balanced a stack of books and old newspapers in one arm while holding his cellphone in the other.

“Got enough books there, Urkel?” Dean snorted, a smirk tugging at his lips as both men stared back at him in confusion. “Never mind,” He muttered, feeling himself pout as Sam deposited the books into their backseat. “We done with all those yet?”

“We didn’t even make it through half of them last night, Dean.” The younger scoffed, leaning through the window as he grabbed one of the books and glanced it over. Didn’t that guy ever stop reading?

“Whatever, let’s get breakfast. Cas, you comin?” The hunter asked, glancing over at the angel who was staring and squinting up at the sky behind him. “Cas, you gonna answer or are you gonna act like a statue all day?”

When he still hadn’t received an answer Dean turned, looking up at the sky as well. “What the hell are you staring.. at..” He trailed off, eyes widening as he looked up at the horizon where a dark shape moved erratically through the sky. “Sam, you seein this?”

“Kinda hard to miss. What is that?” His brother asked, leaning over the top of the car as the shape grew closer.

“Is that.. Is that a _box_?” The hunter asked incredulously as it jerked to the right and shifted its course.

“And it’s headed right for us, Dean run!” Sam yelled as the man took an unsure step to the side, spotting a thin plume of smoke coming out of one of the boxes sides.

“What the hell..”

“Dean!”

The box was careening straight towards him as the hunter dove to the side, rolling across the asphalt as a loud crash echoed behind him, the sound of wood and metal and glass combining as he ducked his head.

Peeking over his arms, he found a large blue box a few feet away from him with deep scratches gouged along the sides. Pushing himself up, glass dug into the palms of the hunter’s hands as his brother jogged over, grabbing his arm and pulling him further away while glancing him over.

“You alright?”

“The hell is that thing?” Dean gaped, glancing over Sam’s shoulder and spotting Cas near the building where he was staring strangely at the box.

“I’ve never heard of a ‘police public call box’ before.” Sam shook his head while reading the sign as Dean wandered around the side.

“Think it’s one of the horseman’s new rides? Weird way to travel when-“ The man’s voice cut out as he neared his car and froze, staring at the bumper of the Impala which had had been hit by the flying box. The metal was partially caved in and the bumper was all but ripped off, the sound of metal and glass having come from the taillights and trunk of his car.

“Baby no..” He whispered, reaching out and resting his hands on his car before shooting a murderous look towards the box. “Oh, whoever the hell you are, you’re _dead_ you hear me?”

“Dean, you should see this.”

“It hit my car, Sam, it nearly wrecked my baby!”

“Dean! Get over here!” His brother yelled, the older begrudgingly walking around the other side as he caught sight of what Sam must have seen. The smoke that had been coming from it earlier had grown thicker, a dark grey cloud swirling towards the sky as he reached behind him and drew his pistol.

“Cas, you recognize this thing?” The hunter called as the angel stepped closer until he stood behind the two brothers.

“I’ve not seen anything like this before.”

“Stuff keeps getting weirder and-“ Dean’s voice cut out again as one of the doors of the box swung in and a fresh wave of dark smoke poured out.

“How toxic is it?” A woman’s voice drifted out towards them as a young blonde stumbled outside, her back to the hunters as she waved the smoke from her face and stared back inside while coughing. “Because I’m pretty sure it shouldn’t be doing that!” She called back in, the hunter catching ahold the English accent woven through her words. It reminded him of Bella and a bitter taste rose in his mouth.

“I believe your machine developed a fault long before we arrived.” A man spoke next, his accent only slightly different from the girl as a tall man pushed his way out wearing a long black coat and a blue scarf wrapped around his neck. He paid no mind to the men standing nearby, if he’d even seen them, instead pulling out his phone and squinting at the screen.

“Or it could be the fact that you pressed the button he _explicitly_ told you _not_ to. Just a thought.” Another Englishman, shorter with blonde hair and a scowl set deep in his face as he glared at the taller man while coughing the smoke out of his lungs angrily.

Sam drew his own gun as the two brother’s stood watching, confusion washing over the hunter at how they could all fit inside the small box when a fourth voice rang out. This one was American, belonging to a guy that Dean judged to be around his own age, with dark hair that was wet and a nasty cut above his eye.

“It’s not as bad as it seems, right Doctor? Just needs to vent?” He questioned, moving to stand beside the girl while shooing smoke from his face that had yet to stop filtering out of the strange machine. With a thick leather cuff around his wrist and a cocky smirk, the man seemed almost amused.

“No, but we can’t be going back in for a while. Time Energy is going to be leaking all over the place.”

How the hell were there _five_ people in that box? Dean could see two, _maybe_ three fitting inside, but all five of them? What the hell was going on?

The last man who came out, the one the other guy had called ‘Doctor’ wore a leather jacket and practically bled an authoritative demeanor.

“Now, let’s see where we ended up.” He clapped his hands together, a grin wide on his face as the smoke began to clear with the door finally being closed. As he turned, Dean lifted his gun and pointed it directly at him while the smile the stranger wore faltered briefly.

“Who the hell are you people? No one came riding through town this morning shouting the British were coming.”

The group raised their hands to various heights as Sam followed his brother’s actions, raising his own weapon at the possible threat.

They couldn’t take any chances, not with what had been happening recently. Was this some trick by the angels or the demons? He’d assume either side, though given Cas didn’t have any idea what kind of box that was, he was guessing down below had pulled a new stunt for Sam’s meat suit. Or was this some other new kind of trick from Gabriel?

“America, of course, should’ve known.” The one in the leather proclaimed, a wry smile flashing as he glanced to the people around him before settling on Dean, fixing the hunter with a harsh glare. “You can never be without your guns, can you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> I love writing for Dean and I love the pure animosity that you KNOW lingers between him and the Doctor. I need a story just the two of them because they would argue over EVERYTHING.
> 
> Anyways, hope this chapter is better than it was last time! Certainly is longer, though I remember now how hard it is to write so many characters at once. Let me know what you guys think and I hope you enjoyed!


	4. Captain Jack Harkness

The tension in the air was unbelievably thick but Jack was used to tense situations; although the causes usually tended to be sexual and rarely involved guns. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Twice things had involved guns. How was Rodolfo doing these days he wondered, should he call him?

“Would you mind putting down your guns? I don’t particularly care for them.” The Doctor smiled, though it was far from his usual jovial grin as the two strangers remained motionless, seemingly unfazed at the fact that none of them were actually armed themselves.

This was far from the most dangerous thing Jack had stumbled into and he doubted it would be the last, but Rose looked uncomfortable and the men looked like professionals. The time agent had seen his fair share of soldiers before, several of whom had definitely made a lasting impression, but these guys were different. The men wore old looking jackets and faded jeans but the way they held their weapons made it clear they had some form of training, likely military.

“You’ll like them a lot less if you don’t tell me who the hell you people are.” The shorter of the two barked out, his colt aimed directly at the Doctor’s chest.

“We’re just travelers, stumbled in by mistake. Though I must say, it is a pleasure to meet you.” Jack offered with a smile, taking a tentative step forwards as the taller of the two aimed his own handgun at the time agent as he pulled up short.

Both were attractive in a scruffy sort of way, though his gaze lingered longest on the man standing stoically behind them. Eyes the color of the sky stared back at him and Jack was smitten, already running through the usual lines in his head to draw a name from the man as the Doctor stepped forwards and grinned.

“I’m the Doctor, hello!” With a little wave the alien partially turned, gesturing towards the rest of their group. “This is Rose Tyler.”

“Hello.” The blonde greeted curtly, offering a wary smile though her eyes were trained intently on the weapons as she drew her arms around herself.

“John Watson and Sherlock Holmes.” The Doctor continued, gesturing to the two men standing off to the side.

“What, as in _the_ Sherlock Holmes? Yeah, right.” The shorter scoffed in disbelief as Sherlock’s eyes narrowed. The taller of the two seemed more believing though, his eyes flickering from the time agent to the detective as his gun lowered a fraction of an inch.

“Yes, and this is-“

“Captain Jack Harkness, hello.” He interrupted, flashing another wide and flirtatious smile towards the men who shifted strangely as Jack started to offer out his hand.

“A time and a place.” The Doctor chided, a pointed stare shot towards the man as he pouted, his hand falling back to his side.

“You can never just let me say hello, can you?”

“I would, if it was ever just a hello.” He retorted, as the shorter one scowled, obviously annoyed by their exchange.

“Where the hell did you come from?” Despite his anger, the man had enticing green eyes and dark blonde hair, though Jack found his freckles the best part. If he’d lose that frown and lighten up he’d be downright adorable.

“Space, obviously. And who are you?” The Doctor asked, his body relaxing as if the guns were no longer a threat. He was never one to be bullied by weapons or brute force, something Jack actually really admired about him, but there was something off about the men, something that begged a certain amount of caution to be taken.

“Space?” The taller asked, his head tilting as his brows drew together in suspicion. He didn’t look as angry or threatening as the other but there was something different that was off about him. The first man obviously had anger issues but it was straight up and easy to see. Whoever this other guy was he was hiding something, Jack had seen it many times in the past. Addictions, bad habits, everyone had that same look in their eye that he did, like he was hiding a heavily guarded secret.

“What’s the box?” The first demanded, ignoring the Doctor’s question as he gestured to the machine.

“It’s my Tardis. I didn’t catch your names?” The tone of impatience was clear, the Doctor growing tired of having the guns aimed at him and his companions as he folded his arms and watched as the two men exchanged a look.

“What’s the harm?” The taller murmured quietly, lowering his weapon as the first’s scowl deepened. “I’m Sam,” The brunette spoke, motioning to the man beside him who still kept ahold of his gun though it had begun to lower as well. “This is my brother, Dean.” Brothers, that explained things a bit more. And oh, the fun he could have.. “And this-“

“My name is Castiel,” The blue eyed man spoke, his voice deep and alluring as his eyes moved around the group. “I’m an angel of the Lord.” The declaration was met with stunned silence from their group and a collective sigh from the two brothers.

Dean turned and glared at the man-_angel_ in the trench coat, rolling his eyes before his weapon fell all together and he muttered something underneath his breath. The Doctor however seemed highly intrigued, his eyes lighting up as his arms fell, stepping forwards to look at the angel. Dean followed the alien with his gaze, watching as he stepped around them and right in front of Castiel while looking him over eagerly.

“An angel? I’ve met quite a few of those but you don’t look a thing like any of them. You’re not stone or digitally animated.” The Doctor spoke quickly, peering around the man who stood as still as ever, though his own eyes had narrowed in confusion as he looked to Dean in question. “You don’t appear to have wings either, unless those exist in an alternate plain?” He asked, and suddenly he reminded Jack very strongly of a child excited to have just made his first discovery.

“He gets really excited when he finds something new.” Jack explained, stepping closer to the brothers as a cheeky grin settled into place. They were rough, tough and full of a strange but intriguing fire. Though he had to admit, the angel was the one mainly on his mind. Now he just had to wait until the Doctor was done chatting him up for him to make his move.

“You said you were from space.” Sam began, his gaze fixed on the detective and army doctor a few feet away, the two discussing something intently amongst themselves as John shook his head and gave Sherlock a dirty look.

“That’s right! Like I said, we’re travelers through time and space!” He proclaimed proudly as Rose moved to stand next to him, a small smile on her face at his enthusiasm. “Ex Time Agent from the fifty first century, hello again.” He introduced, pleased at the shocked expression drifting over the blonde.

Sam on the other hand seemed less interested in him and more in the detective. To the traveler’s dismay the man pulled away and walked towards Sherlock, the questions on his mind practically screaming out before he even spoke them aloud.

“Fifty first century, huh?” Dean repeated, a glare hardening on his face as he turned his back to the two and waked towards the Tardis. “Do people in the future have no consideration for another man’s vehicle? Cause your damn box nearly wrecked my car.” He spat out as Jack trailed behind him, the view of an old black Chevy Impala with a ruined back end meeting his gaze.

“Oh, right. No wonder you’re angry, she’s a beautiful car.”

“If you travel through time and space why don’t you get back in that box and make sure you don’t hit my car. Better yet, get back in and don’t show up at all.”

“We’ve met friendlier.” He commented quietly to Rose who hid her smirk as Jack turned, his eyes skimming along the edge of the woods that surrounded the motel. It was a nice place, almost like a story book, but as he began to turn back he found himself doing a double take, eyes narrowing on a spot several yards away. In the trees, hidden nearly out of view, was that-

“Why would you even pick now?” Dean scoffed, reaching down and picking up his car’s bumper. “Why the hell would anyone choose this time period to visit?”

“You believe us?” Rose questioned, leaning her shoulder against the side of the Tardis as glass crunched beneath Dean’s shoes.

“What, that you’re from space?”

“That we travel through time. Not many people are so willing to accept that.” She shrugged, her fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face as the man cut his eyes towards Castiel.

“Believe me,” He spoke, placing the bumper on the trunk carefully. “It’s not that farfetched of an idea.”

Glancing to the blonde, Rose shrugged lightly as Jack crossed his arms. “What’s so wrong with coming here?”

“Don’t they have like records or something you can look at before you travel? Something that tells you if there’s bad weather or impending doom.” He muttered dryly, though his temperament seemed to be getting better. At the very least he’d returned his colt to a place in the back of his shirt and seemed more distressed over his car than anything else.

“That’s not the way the Doctor likes to travel.” Rose laughed a little, rolling her eyes at a joke the man obviously didn’t get. Though that didn’t stop him from looking at her with a flash of interest that Jack wouldn’t have minded having thrown his way.

“Yeah, well, the world is kind of going to hell right now.” He stated, glancing at the two with a wry smile. “It’s practically the damn apocalypse.” Just as Rose had a moment ago, it appeared that Dean made a joke that they were unaware about as he shook his head. “You should leave while you can.”

“What’s going on? The Doctor, he’s got this sort of, habit, of helping people.”

“Rose, right? Believe me, if it were possible, I’d let him.”

“You’d be surprised. He’s saved the planet before.” Jack offered, catching the weary expression that shifted over the man’s face as he opened his mouth to reply.

“It’s not that simple though, because of what you do.” Turning, Sherlock stood behind them, staring at Dean in a calculating manner as green eyes rolled dramatically.

“Yeah, and what exactly is it that I do, _Sherlock_?” His words practically dripped with sarcasm as John dropped his head, a sigh leaving him as he pinched the bridge of his nose behind them.

Sherlock on the other hand seemed amused as he began to untie the scarf from around his neck. “You and your brother, you’re hunters of the supernatural.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> I forgot how much I loved this story. This was one of the first fanfictions I ever wrote and it’s kinda like my first written love. I have spin offs for this story planned but I am enjoying finally giving this story the justice it deserves!


	5. Sam Winchester

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean asked, forcing out a laugh as Sam moved to stand next to his brother. “Hunting the supernatural? Everyone knows that stuff isn’t real.”

“Sherlock, stop.” John murmured, standing next to his friend as his eyes darted between the two brothers warily.

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed, piercing blue hues studying Dean intently as the corner of his lip twitched, curving up briefly into the faintest smile. “The callouses on your right thumb and forefinger suggest frequent use of a blunt instrument in your exploits. The sigils etched into the back end of your car that you thought would go unnoticed are in fact a dead giveaway of your profession. Those signs are old, used only by the insanely superstitious or the diehard believers.”

The detective spoke with an air of arrogance as Dean shifted, his fingers twitching as Sam glanced down to see the gun was no longer in his hands. “The way you carry yourselves is another tell, not to mention how utterly paranoid you are. You keep your hand near your weapon at all times, never far from anything you can use to protect yourself. You’ve seen it before, John, the way George acts.”

The blonde’s face scrunched up in confusion before realization dawned and he dropped his head. “His name is _Greg_.” He muttered as if he’d had to remind the detective of that fact on more than one occasion.

“As if that matters.” The man waved dismissively as he turned and stepped closer to the blue box. Dean looked ready to explode, a downright murderous glare burning a hole into the detective as if that was enough to stop him. Which unfortunately it was not. “The way you stand in front of your brother suggests an unhealthy, if not deadly, codependency upon one another. Something that I’m sure has been used against you on more than one occasion.” Sherlock kept going, sliding around Rose and nearing the Impala as Dean cut his eyes towards his brother, his face turning a shade of scarlet.

Sam on the other hand wasn’t sure how he felt. Was he fascinated or was he furious? He was leaning towards the first, though it was obvious Dean tilted towards the latter. Was it possible that this guy really was _the_ Sherlock Holmes? How else could he know so much?

“There’s rock salt crushed into the carpets on the floor and an empty shell half under the seat, a common theme used by those in the occult to protect themselves from creatures and beings summoned from hell. Though what it’s not is typical of an FBI agent’s weapon, a persona you try to pass off as your job when trying to get into places in search of information.”

At the mention of rock salt Rose perked up, her neck craning to look into the car and see what the detective had as Sam tensed, feeling the Doctor and Castiel nearing them at the sudden group that had formed.

“I didn’t ask for your damn-“

“It’s rather obvious, of course.” The detective continued, completely ignoring Dean’s objections as he flippantly gestured to the front seats. “Your ID’s sit in an open carton in your car, it’s a wonder that nobody has questioned them before. And your shoes, your boots are old and there is dried blood stained along the edges that would never be accepted in any government building. Not to mention your hair,” He stated, glancing towards Sam. “The length of which goes against every dress code in any form of government. And really, who reads ‘The Four Horsemen’ merely for pleasure?”

Everyone had fallen silent, though it was clear that John wished Sherlock would do the same. Although the fact was that this guy was good. Really good. Sam had seen a lot of crazy stuff in his time, stuff that most people would never believe. But could he really admit that _Sherlock Holmes_ was real? Was actually standing in front of him?

“So, you’re hunters.” Turning, Sam’s eyes fell on Jack who was staring with a narrowed gaze and had folded his arms over his chest. “I’ve run into people like you before. Always thought they were bogus, chasing after the things of nightmares and fantasy. But more than that they were always dangerous. No matter where they went, people always seemed to die around them.”

“Hang on, you impersonate the FBI?” John spoke out, lifting a hand as if placing the other conversation on hold. “How exactly have you managed to do that and not get caught?”

“Look, whatever you think we are or that we do, it’s not like that.” Sam ventured, attempting to take control of the situation before things got out of hand.

“Really? Do you need more proof? It’s not as if you hide any of it very well.” The detective scoffed as his friend glared at him.

“Sherlock, don’t, just-“

“Your clothes, they’re old and worn, uneven lines suggesting you mend them yourselves and wash them frequently which leads to the conclusion that they are ripped often and constantly stained.”

“You never listen.” John mumbled, glancing up at the brothers in an almost apologetic manner as the other continued.

“The dark circles beneath your eyes are indicative to lack of sleep while the stench of stale beer and grease are proof enough of your poor eating habits.” Sherlock stated simply, glancing over Dean with a blank stare. It was as if he was actually unaware of anything but the fact that he needed to prove himself right.

“As for you,” Shifting his gaze to Sam, the hunter suddenly felt himself put on the spot. “You reek of blood, though it’s not human, it’s too dark for that. The stains on the cuffs of your sleeves and under your nails suggest it’s more than topical, that fact solidified by the stench of it on your breath.” Sam’s eyes widened, his heart beating faster in his chest as he felt his brother’s gaze burning into him. “I don’t know what type of mythical creature’s blood you’ve been ingesting but its foul enough that your friend in the trench coat finds you absolutely despicable.”

“Sherlock that’s enough.” John spoke sharply, taking a step towards him as the detective backed away, calculating eyes taking in everything at once.

“Is it? You repair your own car and frequently it seems judging by the various parts from over the years and the grease stains on your jeans. I would wager it’s due to some emotional value you hold in it as it would be easy to obtain a new vehicle given what you can do, but this one in particular holds meaning. The only piece you have of a normal life perhaps, one where sleeping in motels or your car wasn’t a necessity.” The weight in Sam’s stomach had grown to the point of making him feel sick, but there was enough rage burning inside Dean for the both of them. “So tell me, _hunters_, are you sure it’s not what it seems?”

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Dean asked slowly, striding closer to the detective as his hand twitched. “Some prick who takes on the name of a fictional detective and tries to act like he knows everything in the damned world. You seriously expect me to believe that you got all that from just looking at us? Yeah, sure.” The man scoffed, poking a finger towards Sherlock’s chest. “I’ll believe you’re from the future, that I can take, but you’re not some genius with all the answers. You read about us somewhere and now you’re just trying to act like some kind of know it all.”

“Dean I wouldn’t-“

“He’s just a friggen douche, Sam, nothing more.” He spat out, the two men staring one another down as Sherlock’s eyebrow rose in question.

“Am I? I wasn’t wrong about what you are and I’m not wrong about the angel that has moved precisely three centimeters since I began talking.” He stated sharply, catching the Doctor’s attention as all eyes shifted towards Castiel. “The stone angel, at the edge of woods.” The detective corrected with a hint of annoyance as he gazed across the group and behind the Winchester’s as Sam turned.

“Stone angel?” The Doctor spun around, his eyes finding the same statue Sam did as he studied it. Maybe it had just been dark the night before but he didn’t remember stone statues when they’d checked in.

“Doctor, there’s another one over there, on the other side of the building.” Rose called out, her hand outstretched as she pointed. Why did she sound concerned? What was so wrong with decorations? Hell, it was better than some of the stuff they’d seen at other motels.

“There, near the road, a third one.” Jack called out as Dean glanced towards his brother.

“I don’t remember those being there.”

“Me neither.” He shook his head, his hand instinctively reaching for his gun as Dean did the same.

“Doctor, what are those? Why are they getting closer?” Rose asked, her feet shuffling back towards the detective.

“That one moved.” Dean murmured under his breath, Sam’s head swiveling towards the first they’d seen as it appeared to have moved closer to their group. It was so strange looking, its head bowed and hands covering its face. But it had definitely moved when they weren’t looking. Was that possible? Out of the corner of his eye he watched Dean lift his gun and line up his shot before a hand was reaching out and pushing his arms down.

“Keep looking at it, don’t blink, don’t even blink! And as for you, shooting it won’t work!” The Doctor yelled, stepping within Sam’s field of vision as his brother scowled.

“It’s made of stone, Doc. Shoot it enough times and something is bound to happen.”

“Maybe he’s right, we don’t know what those things are or where they even came from.” Sam warned, his shoulder brushing against Dean’s as they shifted into a defensive position. Or rather, a huddled group of heads turning and looking around them.

“Listen to your brother, not every problem can be solved with a gun!” The Doctor’s voice rang out.

“You got such a problem with guns then get lost, we didn’t ask you to be here, and how do I know that you didn’t just bring those things with you anyway?” The hunter shot back, clutching his colt tightly as Sam’s eyes burned, realizing he’d actually listened when the Doctor had said not to blink.

“Dean.” Castiel’s voice penetrated past the other mingling murmurings as Sam caught sight of him moving to his left.

“What?”

“Three people have disappeared.”

“What do you mean they’ve disappeared?” Sam gaped, turning his head to look at the angel who stood stiffly staring off towards the highway.

“Keep looking at them!” The Doctor yelled, his head swiveling to look around as Sam shifted his gaze back to where the statue had been only to find it gone.

“What the hell?”

“They’ve taken Rose and Jack.” The Doctor muttered, moving closer to the hunters.

“John as well.”

“What took them? Those statues?” Sam demanded, inching closer to his brother as he reached a hand out and grabbed Cas’ arm to pull him too. As he began to look around again he froze, two statues now a few feet away. Only this time they were no longer covering their faces. Instead their hands had lowered and blank stone eyes stared back at them with a disturbing smile carved into their face.

“Don’t blink!” The Doctor yelled, a strange buzzing sound filling the air as the hunter grimaced.

“Have you ever tried not blinking?” He asked, his eyes twitching as he fought to keep them open. He felt a hand brush against his arm and Sam’s eyes flickered instinctively to where his brother was before shifting back again. He’d only looked away a moment, he _knew_ it had only been a single moment. Yet now standing in front of him was a horrific creature made of stone with its maw open wide and barring sharp fangs as clawed hands reached out for the hunter.

“What the hell are these things?” Sam yelped, stumbling back a step as his eyes widened even more.

“Weeping angels.” The Doctor spoke somewhere behind him as the buzzing came to abrupt halt while the hairs on the back of the hunter’s neck stood on end. “The lonely assassins they used to be called. No one quite knows where they came from.”

“Helpful.” Dean muttered from nearby as Sam kept a firm hand on his gun. Maybe they wouldn’t work, but he wasn’t going to risk going without it.

“They’re as old as the universe, or very nearly.” The Doctor continued, a hint of annoyance filling his tone at the older hunter’s snide remark. “And they’ve survived this long because they have the most perfect defense system ever evolved.” His voice moved with him as the Doctor skirted around the group, continuing to speak as he did. “They’re quantum-locked; they don’t exist when they’re being observed.”

Sam’s chest tightened as he realized he could no longer see the dark haired detective or the celestial being out of the corner of his eye. “The moment they are seen by any other creature they freeze into rock. No choice, it’s a fact of their biology. In the sight of any living thing they literally turn to stone.”

Reaching out beside him, Sam’s hand met nothing but empty air, dread weighing on him at his missing brother. “And you can’t kill a stone.” The Doctor shifted behind him, his back pressing against Sam’s as the hunter swallowed thickly, the large group that had been there just moments ago having dwindled down to just the two of them.

“Of course, a stone can’t kill you either.” The Doctor continued, his voice haunting as Sam struggled to keep his eyes open. “But then you turn your head away, then you _blink_. And oh yes it-“

Silence echoed behind the hunter as the Doctor’s explanation and warning were left unfinished, the weight against his back entirely gone as Sam lifted his gun and stared into the face of the stone angel. Or rather, one of them.

He was alone, nothing but an empty parking lot, the Impala and the Tardis and some broken glass. Well, and a load of angels bent on killing him. It wasn’t the first time, although the whole ‘stone’ aspect of it was new.

Finally caving Sam blinked, moisture gathering in his eyes as a heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder and the ground shifted beneath the hunter’s feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> For as bad as these chapters have been I’m actually kind’ve impressed with how I wrote Sherlock’s little bit of detecting. Like alright I like that! Anyways, now we’re thankfully back to just a few people instead of the larger group, which has been HARD to write. Hope you guys enjoyed, thanks for sticking with me through the rewrite!


	6. Sherlock Holmes

It was like nothing Sherlock had ever experienced before. The detective had had his share of drug induced hazes, felt the soaring highs and the crashing lows. But this? This was entirely different, something he could hardly even describe.

The ground changed beneath his feet and the blue sky overhead shifted into the darkness of night. The Doctor had been in the middle of explaining what the stone angels were when he’d felt a hand against his back and suddenly everything had turned on its head.

Stumbling forwards and falling to his knees, Sherlock lifted his head to find trees cascading high overhead and looked down to see dirt pressed against his legs. Somehow he’d gone from standing in the middle of a parking lot while it was daylight to being somewhere in a stretch of woods with the moon rather than the sun. He hadn’t blacked out, had he? No, he had barely even blinked when everything changed.

Pushing himself up and brushing the earth from his pants, Sherlock turned and tried to determine which direction was the best way to go. There had been an expanse of woods stretching out behind the motel, which was probably where he was. So all he needed was to find the right direction and get back to where they’d been.

“John?” He called out, turning again and peering out into the darkened silhouettes of the trees. “John!”

“Sherlock?” Twisting back around, the detective found himself face to face with the Doctor as he stumbled close out of nowhere, a perplexed expression on the man’s face as he stepped away and cast a sweeping gaze around. “Right, this is odd.” The man mumbled, spinning to look behind him before looking back and setting his stare on Sherlock. “How do you feel?”

“Fine. Where is John?” The detective questioned, narrowing his eyes at the alien who reached up and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Don’t think he’s here. We must’ve been touched by the same angel, you and I. Sent us to the same time period.”

“Which is when?”

“Oh, not too long I don’t think. Few hours back maybe? Judging by my calculations..” Lifting his wrist and pulling back the sleeve of his jumper, the Doctor tilted his hand to look at his watch. “I paid too much for this thing. Can’t even adjust to time zone of parallel worlds, what’s the point!”

Frowning, Sherlock shoved his hands inside his coat pockets, looking over the strange man carefully. “Doctor, the others, how far back would those statues have sent them?” He didn’t particularly care about finding the others, but he’d drug John along and he felt partially responsible if anything happened to him.

“Probably the same time as us, give or take an hour or two. They’re not strong, they need something better than a few stragglers from out of town.” The Doctor shrugged, dropping his arms and tilting his head. “You’re not shocked? At jumping through time?”

“I’ve been in your machine and the idea of time travel, while a ridiculous notion, is of no surprise. And I would imagine that sending us forwards in time would have a cataclysmic side effect as opposed to going back.”

The Doctor grinned, eyeing the detective as he clapped his hands together. “You’re brilliant, really! You know quite a bit.”

“Not as much as you.” He replied dryly, unable to keep the twinge of jealousy out of his voice as the man patted down his jumper before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a thin cylindrical tube.

Pressing down on a button a couple of times, the tip lit up and a strange warbling sound echoed from it as Sherlock watched him curiously. “Sonic screwdriver, great for finding things but rubbish at building cabinets. Or doing anything with wood really.” He rambled, pointing the device at the ground as the light flashed again and the warbling changed pitch.

“What are you looking for?” He asked, the faint blue hue lighting up the grass at his feet as the man waved it back and forth.

“Tardis key, it’s missing and it might’ve fallen out when I stumbled in.” He explained, taking a few steps to the right with the light trailing beside him.

“The key to your machine? You ought to keep better track of it.” The man murmured, walking behind him slowly while glancing around again. A breeze rolled through the woods, shaking the branches and leaves above their heads and creating a chill in the air. It was autumn, nearing towards winter if he were to guess.

He hadn’t been very thrown off when the Doctor had hastily explained what his machine could do, though he had found the idea of the parallel world an intriguing one. Mycroft would certainly want his hands on the box if he ever had the chance, and a piece of him had reveled stepping inside when his brother couldn’t.

“I normally do,” The Doctor was saying, stopping abruptly and dropping to the ground as the pitch of his device changed again and he was running his fingers through the grass. “Problem is, I wasn’t expecting a run in with the Weeping Angels. I wasn’t expecting a run in with you either quite frankly. This whole thing is a bit strange, even by my standards.”

Drawing his hand back and holding up a handful of grass, the Doctor stared at it strangely before he was letting the blades slip through his fingers and standing tall again. “But never mind that, you’re Sherlock Holmes!” He announced, twirling back around and returning his screwdriver to his pocket. “Surely you’ve got an idea as to what’s going on!”

“You hold a lot of faith in a man you’ve never met.” The detective stated calmly though his mind raced all the same. The fact was he’d already figured out quite a lot just about the Doctor himself. Sherlock was rarely unnerved by anyone, mainly irritated or bored by the stupidity in other people. But then again, the Doctor wasn’t just another person, was he? No, he was clever, and he was different.

“Ah, but I’ve read about you! And you can learn a lot about a man by what’s been written about him. See in our universe there was this man, Doyle he was called. Brilliant writer, bit thick, but what can you expect. Anyway, he wrote all about your adventures with John Watson, and you’re brilliant you are so go on, take a shot!” The Doctor encouraged, crossing his arms and beaming in the darkness as Sherlock stared at him quietly.

Normally he’d jump at the chance to say the things on his mind. He wasn’t above proving he was better than the simpletons he dealt with on a regular basis and he wasn’t above accepting the accolades for his genius either. But everything he had figured out about the Doctor still wasn’t enough.

Shifting his gaze past the man eagerly bouncing on the balls of his feet, Sherlock’s eyes fell on a frozen form half hidden behind the trees. “What do those angels do, Doctor?” He asked instead, his eyes locking onto it as the man turned and backed towards the detective.

“Sherlock, don’t blink. Whatever you do, don’t blink.” The Doctor instructed, moving off to the man’s left as his hand squeezed the detective’s shoulder.

“What do they want?” He questioned again, his eyes beginning to burn as they stared at the statue that kept its head bowed and hands covering its face.

“Don’t you know?” The Doctor asked, moving behind the man.

“I know a great deal of things, Doctor. The actions and desires of strange inhabitants from another world have yet to become a pressing enough matter for me to care.” He stated bluntly, his fingers curling inside his pockets.

“They feed on time energy.” Moving around Sherlock in a fashion he could not see but from his peripherals, the Doctor explained. “It’s the most humane way of killing you, really. They zap you back through the years and feed on all the time you would’ve spent in the future but no longer have.”

“You said we were only a few hours back.” The detective pointed out, his body growing tense as his eyes twitched.

“That’s because they’re weak, just stragglers that found their way here. I don’t even think they’re from this universe, a bit like you and me.”

“Then how did they get here?” His head turned half an inch, hearing him still moving about behind him as the warbling from his device rang out again.

“Fell through a crack in time I’d wager. But they’ve lucked out because I’m here. They can feed off my machine until the end of the universe if they get inside, that’s why they’re here I’d bet. If I’d never have shown up they’d have just faded. Sent a few people back a couple of days or weeks, but never enough to get the energy they needed.” A tone of guilt stuck out in the man’s words that Sherlock held onto.

“So that key that you’ve lost then-“

“It’s probably best to not think on that for too long.” The Doctor spoke quietly as the pitch of his device changed again.

Unable to stop himself, Sherlock blinked once, forcing his eyes open wide as they landed on the angel that had moved closer in the brief moment he’d not been staring. It had cleared half the distance and its arms were stretched out towards the detective, gnarled fingers pointing at his chest as he swallowed once and lifted his chin.

“What are you doing, Doctor?” He asked, shifting his weight as he felt the man brush against his side.

“Something extraordinarily clever.” He muttered out, the irony of their situation anything but lost on the detective. Was this how John felt that day, left standing, unable to do anything but stare as Sherlock dealt with Moriarty? He’d known how much the man had struggled since then, though he refused to even acknowledge it to his flat mate.

“You’d better hurry.” He warned, his eyes burning yet again as he caught sight of the blue light beside him.

“Just a couple of minutes longer, hang in there.”

“You asked me what I knew, Doctor.” He ventured, deciding on a distraction as he studied the carved features of the angel in front of him. “It seems unwise, given what I might uncover about a past such as yours.”

The Doctor faltered next to him, a sudden halt in his movements before the sound resumed and the man was kneeling in front of him. “What do you mean?” The question was laced with trepidation though the alien’s head never looked up.

“Your eyes, Doctor. They’re old, older than any human could ever be.”

“I did tell you I wasn’t from Earth.” He said softly, shifting again as the warbling tone turned into an irritating screech for a few moments.

“No, not just because you’re not from this planet. You’ve been in war, thrust right into it.”

“Have I?” The noise stopped altogether and the Doctor rose, fiddling with something small in his hands as the detective clenched his fists, his eyes gathering with moisture.

“It’s the same look I’ve seen in John’s eyes.” He said slowly, silence falling over the two as a sudden _‘click’_ sounded next to him.

“Run, now!” The Doctor shouted, bolting away as Sherlock dove toward the left and away from the stone angel as a small explosive charge sent him stumbling forwards. “Don’t stop!” The Doctor yelled, grabbing at the detective’s coat and dragging him forwards as dirt and stone rained down while a fearsome shriek echoed through the air behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> The note I left on this chapter before I rewrote it was the equivalent of ‘wow my past chapters suck have a good one!’ and this one sucked too.. I love how much my writing has changed though, because I have improved immensely and I am excited to see how much more I’ve learned and grown after the next two years pass. You know, if we’re not all dead from the death virus. Thanks Covid


	7. Castiel

The sudden shift in scenery was one the angel was familiar with, although it was usually by his own powers rather than those of another. The ground beneath him changed into that of a grassy meadow as the angel took a single step forwards to regain his balance before deep blue hues were scanning the horizon. It was dark, early morning of the same day and colder than it had been previously. He’d gone back in time but only a few hours. What was the point of that?

“Whoa!” Turning his head, Castiel’s eyes fell on the time agent as he stumbled forwards, arms waving out to steady himself as narrowed eyes took in the darkened world. “Well,” The man straightened and sighed, resting his hands on his hips as he turned and regarded the angel. “Last time I had an experience with energy like _that_ was when those two Egyptians spiked my drink. Not that I minded of course, it ended up being a pleasant night for all of us, if you know what I mean.”

He winked, a cocky exuberance about him as he stepped forwards and extended his hand out to the celestial being. “Captain Jack Harkness.” He offered as the angel glanced between the man’s outstretched hand and his beaming expression.

“We were previously introduced.” He stated slowly as the man’s grin widened.

“Yeah but it can’t hurt to go over it again, right?” His hand and grin both remained firmly in place as Castiel’s fingers twitched.

“My name is Castiel, I am an angel of the Lord.”

“Oh I bet you are.” Jack chuckled, finally dropping his hand in exchange for returning it to his hip. “Now when did angels start wearing trench coats? Not that it doesn’t suit you, because it does, but it is a bit strange.”

He turned as he spoke, looking around at the sparse amount of trees and the large field they’d found themselves in. “Not sure where we ended up but it looks like we’ll be walking to wherever it is we want to go.” Jack announced, turning back to face Castiel who had yet to move from his original place. “So what can you tell me about those hunter friends of yours, Angel?”

“How do you know about hunters?” Castiel questioned, ignoring the time agent’s inquiry for one of his own.

“Hm? Oh, well, let’s see..” The man murmured, squinting his eyes as he tried to remember. Looking down at a leather cuff wrapped around his wrist he flipped open the cover and pressed a couple of buttons.

“I ran into this group about, oh, thirty five years from this time? They specialized in the whole thing, killing monsters and causing general trouble. Met this great girl though, name was Mary Campbell. She had this great knack for the hunting thing, though she didn’t seem too interested in doing it. Real sweet, father hated me. Although, most fathers do.” He laughed, running a hand down his face.

“Thing is, I got a real close look at what it is hunters do and let me tell you, I could do without that whole thing.” When Castiel didn’t respond Jack turned, motioning towards their right. “We can’t be too far off from where we started. The sooner we get back the sooner we can get rid of the statues.” He suggested, flashing another toothy grin towards the celestial being. “You comin? Unless you plan on flyin off that is.”

“My wings-“

“Exist in an alternate plane, I heard. Doesn’t matter though, cause we’re in this together now, right?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Castiel asked accusingly, his eyes narrowing at the boisterous man. He’d already put everything he had on the line for the Winchester’s, so what made this complete stranger think he’d do anything for him?

“You coulda gone off and left me already, but you haven’t.” The man shrugged, his smirk turning softer. “So you’ve either taken a real shinin to me or you’re planning on using me to get back to your hunter friends. Either way is good for me, just so you know.” He stated, eyeing the angel briefly before turning and starting off across the field.

Castiel watched him for a moment before he began to trudge after him, a hint of intrigue building. “Where did those statues send them, the Winchester’s?” He questioned, staying a couple of paces behind the time agent as Jack lifted his hands and cracked his knuckles absentmindedly.

“In different directions, probably. Wait, they’re named Winchester? Really?” Peering over his shoulder at the angel, Castiel merely stared back.

“Yes, why?”

“You don’t find that ironic? Couple of hunters named after a gun? No?” Lifting his brows, Jack let out a low whistle. As he turned away, Castiel caught sight of an injury that marred the man’s forehead, a deep cut slicing through the skin above his eyebrow and a bruise that had begun to stretch down the side of his face. What had happened to cause such a thing? Unlike the brothers, Jack didn’t seem like one to be quite so hands on.

“I’m sure they’re in good hands though.” The time agent continued, his hands sliding into his pockets while they walked as the clouds overhead allowed moonlight to filter through and speckle the ground in random patches of light. “The Doctor will fix things before they get too out of hand, and it’s not like we’ve gone back very far either. Couple of hours at most.” He explained, slowing his steps to walk beside the other.

“I’ve never seen creatures like that before. They look nothing like my brothers and sisters.”

“Well I don’t think they’re real angels, just statues. Well, statues that kill.” Jack shrugged.

“They’re aliens.” Castiel uttered, his eyes trained on the path ahead of them as his body continued to walk more by impulse than anything else.

“Now you’re getting it, Cas! Can I call you Cas?” The time agent grinned, turning his head to stare at the celestial being who barely glanced his way.

“Everyone else does.” He remarked as his mind began to wander. Were those angels a side effect of the apocalypse? Or just another obstacle meant to hinder the Winchester’s and mock Castiel? He’d never seen those statues before, but something about them was strangely familiar all the same. They didn’t have the time to be messing with this though, they had more pressing matters at hand and being sent back in time was a nuisance that only drew irritation from the angel.

Although another question was where and why these people showed up out of nowhere. And why were they just following along with them? And then of course there was Sam to think about, and Dean. Neither of whom he wanted to leave alone for an extended period of time. At least not with Sam’s old habits and Dean’s pension for letting his mind drift towards saying yes. Didn’t they know how much he’d given up for them? Why did they have to act as if nothing else mattered?

“We’re in for a potentially long walk, wanna talk about what’s on your mind?” Jack’s voice cut through the angel’s thoughts, Castiel’s head turning to stare at him. “You’ve got something rollin around in that angel head of yours, do you want to discuss it?” He rephrased the question as a sincere expression rose to his face.

“I am simply distracted by the oncoming apocalypse.” Castiel stated blandly, his eyes falling to the grass as they walked.

“Oncoming apocalypse, that a figure of speech?”

“No, it’s not.” The angel replied, glancing up to find the time agent’s eyes widened. “Sam Winchester is responsible for releasing Lucifer from the cage. Catastrophe has struck since and his chase to goad the man into allowing the use of his body as a vessel has been relentless ever since.”

“Tell me you’re kidding.” Jack’s steps faltered, the man falling behind the celestial being as Castiel turned to look at him.

“Why would I kid about such a thing?” He demanded, his shoulders straightening as his hands hung loose by his sides. “Michael and Lucifer are intent on using the Winchester’s to wage war against each other that will, if they succeed, destroy everything in their path.”

“So,” Jack began slowly, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Those brothers are.. vessels. For what, an angel and a demon? Why haven’t they just, you know, taken over? I mean, don’t demons possess people?”

“Lucifer was once an angel himself, and the laws behind that still stand.” Castiel stated, facing the time agent directly as he spoke. “For an angel to possess a human and use them as their holy vessel they must first receive the human’s consent.”

Jack looked the other up and down as realization dawned on him. “So you’re a.. well I mean, you’re..”

“My vessel’s name was Jimmy Novak.” Castiel said easily, turning and beginning to walk again as Jack trailed behind him.

“Right, well. Can certainly say I didn’t see that coming.” He murmured behind him before he jogged to catch up. “So those brothers then, the Winchester’s, are they going to say yes?”

The question was left unanswered as Castiel frowned at the ground below. What was he to even say to such a thing? No, the abomination had no plans on giving in to the devil but his older brother had been contemplating his own role in things?

He could see it in Dean’s eyes no matter how much he tried to deny it. The hunter felt guilty for the destruction and the pain Zachariah was causing. Castiel was sure in fact that the only reason he’d held off as long as he had was in an attempt to keep his younger brother from caving in and saying yes himself.

“Cas?” Glancing up, the angel found the man staring at him.

“What is it that you do, Jack?” He asked, completely ignoring the question that had been posed for one of his own.

“Me? I used to be a time agent, but now I just travel with the Doctor and Rose.” He shrugged.

“What is a time agent?” He wasn’t sure where the intrigue came from, or if it was just a way to avoid having to discuss the Winchester’s any longer, but Jack didn’t seem to mind.

“Oh, you know. I did this and that, traveled here and there.” He hummed nonchalantly. “Actually, you know, it’s kind of hard to explain.” He laughed, but his expression had become more guarded.

“You’re avoiding the question.” Castiel stated bluntly, catching the time traveler’s eye as Jack smirked.

“Well so are you. Those Winchester’s gonna say yes?” The question irked the angel, his body tensing.

“Why won’t you talk about your previous job?”

“We’re just going around in circles, aren’t we?” The man grinned, an amused laugh rolling out as Castiel stopped abruptly and glanced around.

“We’ve been going relatively straight this whole time. What purpose would going around in circles serve?” He asked, watching as the laughter faded and a look of confusion replaced it.

“No, I just meant.. You’re not kidding, are you?”

“I don’t-“

“You don’t kid, yeah, I got it. It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” He smirked once more, his hand reaching out and patting the angel’s shoulder before walking again. “Alright, so since talking about the ‘apocalypse’ is off the table, tell me something. How’d you meet the Winchester’s? You their personal guardian angel?” Jack asked, rubbing his hands together as a chilled breeze drifted through the air.

“No,” Castiel stated matter-of-factly, eyes straight ahead as he answered. “I raised Dean from perdition.”

“What, perdition as in _hell_?”

“Yes.”

“Dean was in hell? Like, _hell_ hell?”

“Yes.” Castiel nodded, feeling a hand grab ahold of his arm and stop him as the time agent turned to face him.

“That’s not possible. Is it?”

“Hell is very possible, and very real.”

“Well, how long was he there?” The man asked, no longer carrying a cocky air about him.

“Forty years.”

“For-Forty _years_?” A strangled noise escaped Jack as he stared, dark eyes blinking a few times as his hand fell away from the angel’s trench coat. “You’re telling me that the guy I met, _that_ Dean, who doesn’t look any older than what, thirty? He was in _hell_ for _forty years_?”

“Yes.” Pulling his arm free and continuing across the meadow, Jack whistled again.

“I knew hunters were weird, but damn.”

“He sold his soul to save his brother.” Castiel clarified, feeling the slightest twinge of guilt at the anger he knew Dean would hold towards him for sharing the story with a stranger.

“He did what now?”

“Sold his soul. Then he was taken to a hell a year later as per the deal with the crossroads demon.”

“These aren’t real people, are they?”

Frowning, Castiel’s brows drew together as he tilted his head towards Jack. “I don’t understand, of course they’re real.”

“No I just meant, never mind.” The time agent waved his hand dismissively before running his fingers down his face. “Look, I know it’s none of my business, but why are an angel and the devil fighting over the Winchester’s? I mean obviously there are billions of other people in the world, so why bother with them?”

The question wasn’t as pressing as the other had been, the angel lifting his head at something he actually had a clear answer for. “The two of them being the only vessels were always meant to be, their lineage dates back to Cain and Abel themselves.” He began, looking towards the sky. “Two brothers competing for the Lord’s affection, brothers who fought before one killed the other. Just as Michael and Lucifer have done, and just as Sam and Dean will do.”

Silence hung heavy in the air when he’d finished, Jack walking quietly beside him for a few moments before posing another question. “So one of them is going to kill the other, and that’s okay with them?”

“Of course not, that’s what they’re fighting against. And why they cannot say yes. Not only will the world be at risk, but they will destroy each other in the process.”

“Well, are they considering it?”

The return to the original question had the angel falling silent again, his hands balling into fists at his side as dark blue eyes cut towards the traveler. “Only Dean.”

“Hate his brother that much?” Jack muttered jokingly, though there was little amusement on his face.

“The angels and demons are fighting to acquire their vessels. They’ve gone to great lengths to persuade Dean, many of which have included harming innocent people and he feels responsible for what they’ve done. He believes if he says yes, those things will stop.”

“You know,” Jack began, shrugging his shoulders up as he turned and walked backwards while regarding the angel. “Maybe the Doctor can help out.”

“No one else can interfere.” Castiel cut in, his gaze shifting away as they narrowed out at the distance. “This was started by the Winchester’s, and regardless of what will happen, it will inevitably be finished by them as well.”

“You’re trying to help them though, aren’t you?” Jack asked softly as Castiel blinked, a weight settling against him as he barely nodded.

“Yes.”

“Well, at least they have you then. You’re a good friend, Angel.” The time agent smiled, patting his shoulder again as the celestial being fell silent, unable to respond to the sentiment he wasn’t sure was entirely true or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> I can hear Castiel’s voice in my head as I write, and just writing him and Jack together is a lot of fun. Jack is so damn flirtatious and pushy and Castiel is so stoic and quiet and innocent. Ah to have a show where they actually interacted would make my little fangirl heart happy.
> 
> Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed! I’m trying to get through these faster, but I’m hitting the points where plot holes had emerged so I’m trying to fix them where I can. Thanks for sticking with me everyone!


	8. The Doctor

Dirt kicked up from their shoes in large clumps, the two men running from the unearthly screeching echoing behind them from the furious stone angel. Dust from the charge clung to their clothes as they heaved in gasps of grimy air and worked to put distance between themselves and the statue.

By the time they’d made it to the edge of the woods the two men had slowed to a stop as the Time Lord looked about, his chest heaving while a rather large grin claimed his features. Leaning over next to the alien, the detective drew in a large breath and looked behind them.

“We should be alright for now.” The Doctor assured, taking a few steps past the tree line and looking out across an expansive meadow with yellowed grass and an endless view of the darkened sky.

“What did you do back there?” Sherlock questioned, shrugging his coat off his shoulders and holding it over one arm as he began to roll up the sleeves of his violet dress shirt.

“Nothing really, I just activated a few key minerals and components held within the earth here. Mixed it with a bit of tree sap and _boom_.” The Doctor explained, moving his hands in an explosive manner as he grinned widely at his newest companion.

“You activated components in the ground? With what exactly?” The detective demanded, eyeing the man suspiciously as the Doctor clapped his hands together.

“My sonic screwdriver!” He proclaimed, patting down his pockets before he was retrieving his device, holding up the technology to show it off. He expected some form of praise from the detective for his quick thinking and skill that had gotten them past the statue safely, but instead the man’s eyes narrowed in disbelief.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing before.” He declared, reaching out and snatching the device from the Doctor’s hands as the man’s eyes widened in shock.

“Course you haven’t, _I_ invented it!” He huffed, reaching out to take back his screwdriver only to have the detective turn away and hold it out in front of him.

“How is it powered?” Sherlock inquired, flipping it around in his hands as the Doctor scoffed.

_“How is it powered?”_ He repeated, hearing the childish tone of his own words as he reached out for it again. “Well, obviously it’s got, well the glowy bit, and the extending factor..” He murmured, frowning as the detective squinted at it with little to no amazement. “And it does absolute wonders on locks! Brilliant with them in fact, but can’t do anything with wood. I’ve really got to fix that one of these days..”

“You’ve got no idea how it works do you? Didn’t you say you created it?” The detective asked blandly, thrusting the screwdriver back to its owner as the Doctor caught it and pulled it close.

“Of course I do!” He snapped, sliding the device back in his pocket where it belonged. “It’s just too complicated to try and explain it.” The disinterest in his technology miffed the Doctor as he cast an annoyed glance towards the dark haired man as Sherlock made his way further into the meadow.

“Someone’s been through here.” He commented, kneeling next to a torn up piece of earth. “These footprints, they match the size and shoe of that angel, the one traveling with those hunters.” Sherlock explained, stretching out his hand to a spot a couple of paces away. “And those are from the boots your own companion wore, that agent.”

“They were here? Just Jack and that angel?” The Doctor questioned, walking towards him and kneeling beside the detective. Reaching out a hand and plucking a blade of grass, the Doctor twirled it around in his fingers before holding it up to his nose and sniffing it.

“How is that helping?” There was a note of irritation in Sherlock’s tone, the man’s eyes cutting towards the alien as his expression softened.

“We’ll find them, Sherlock. John, Rose, even those Winchester’s.” He offered the assurance as he shifted, a hand clamping down on the man’s shoulder before he pushed himself up and let the blade of grass flutter to the ground.

“I’m more concerned with the markings rather than where the others are currently.” Sherlock muttered, pointing towards a section of the field a ways off where the grass had been pressed down as if something heavy had sat on it.

Glancing down at the detective, the Doctor walked towards the area and leaned over it, letting out a low whistle at the imprints. To anyone else it might have just looked as if a boulder had been drug and then moved away from the field, but as the Doctor circled the area slowly he found the marks indicated more. The statues had been there, and recently too.

“Well, looks like we’ll just have to hurry and stop them while also finding the others. Easy.” He grinned, flashing the cheerful expression towards his new companion who had risen and stood staring at him with a far less chipper demeanor than his own.

“Have you actually encountered these creatures before, Doctor, or are you basing what you know off legend?”

Hesitating, the Doctor shoved his hands inside the pockets of his jumper and found himself shrugging, the care free smile turning a bit more strained. “First time for everything!”

“Does acting clever reassure you as much as you think it reassures other?” Sherlock asked bluntly, his eyes narrowing as he regarded the alien. “The amount of joy you’re experiencing from this would be considered inappropriate by most.”

“But not you.” The Doctor retorted, catching the glimmer of intrigue in the detective’s eyes. “Come on, Sherlock. Don’t tell me this isn’t the most excitement you’ve had in a while. I mean stone statues that move when you look away?” He goaded, smirking as the man’s own gaze drifted away.

“I find intrigue in complex mysteries, Doctor. Nothing about stone statues from outer space requires a solution.”

“What about how to stop them?” He asked, stepping closer to the man whose eyes flickered back up at the question.

“I know very little about these creatures.”

“But you’re clever, and I’ve already got part of a plan settled.” The Doctor shrugged, his hands balling into fists inside his pocket as he arched a questioning brow towards the man.

“What sort of a plan?” The question was all the alien needed, his body jumping into motion as he returned to the detective’s side and glanced back into the woods behind them.

“It’s fairly simple. I’m going to let them believe they have control over my Tardis.”

“The machine that you’ve lost the key to?” Sherlock scoffed as the Doctor waved a hand towards him.

“Let’s not alert that news to everyone alright?” He muttered, looking around again as the moonlight that melted into the empty clearing brightened things considerably around them. “I’ve got to work out the specifics but it will work. Trust me.” He urged, sensing the unease filling the man before Sherlock nodded.

“Fine, but I want to find John.”

“Oh that part is simple!” The alien boasted, pulling his screwdriver from his pocket again and hefting it in his hand. “I can track him! Gift from the Tardis you could say. Scans everyone who walks inside, downloads their structural code into my sonic and can lead me within three hundred yards of their vicinity!”

“Your device carries our structural codes?” It wasn’t quite outrage that followed Sherlock’s tone, but his expression made it clear he felt a boundary had been overstepped. Rose had felt the same when she’d learned the Tardis had gotten inside her head, but the scanning was far less invasive. Wasn’t it? Why did humans have to be so odd about those sorts of things?

“It comes in handy for times like these, when companions run off or get captured or hurt.” He defended, drawing the device closer while stern blue eyes studied him.

“Does that happen often?”

“More often then I’d like. I always tell them never to run off but no one ever listens. Never once had a companion who could be bothered to listen in fact. Maybe it’s just my face. And every other face.” He murmured to himself as he dropped his hand, the screwdriver sliding out as his thumb instinctually found the button.

“You said your machine scanned us. What exactly is it, Doctor?”

“I told you, it travels through time and space!” He grinned, feeling the detective’s calculating gaze looking him over.

“It’s alive, isn’t it?” It was phrased like a question, but given Sherlock’s tone it indicated he already knew the answer.

“Yes, it is.” The Doctor replied, his expression sobering.

“How did you acquire such a device?”

“My people invented them. That whole bigger on the inside bit? Time Lord technology.” The conversation seemed casual enough on the outside, but the detective’s tone was verging on accusatory and the Doctor felt as though he were being put on the spot. Most people he could lie to or distract, but Sherlock Holmes? Once he focused on something he could not be deterred, and evidently his focus was now on the Time Lord.

“I figured as much. I am asking how you personally acquired your machine.”

“I don’t follow.” The Doctor stated carefully, already knowing full well what it was the man was asking of him.

“You fail to operate your machine with the precise accuracy it so obviously requires, bounding instead from place to place like some sort of mad man. The way your craft is designed is indicative to needing multiple people to steer it, yet you manage to do it alone and without the help of even the two companions you have traveling alongside you. I am asking you Doctor if you stole that machine, if you’re running from your people. I am asking if you’re some sort of criminal or outlaw.”

Silence fell over the two of them as Sherlock’s question rang in the Doctor’s ears. Lie. That’s what he should do. Just lie. And yet.. “Yes.” He answered, his fingers tightening around his sonic.

“Yes?”

“Yes, I stole the Tardis. It was an older model, it wasn’t in proper working order. Actually, I stole it from a museum that’s how old it was. And yes, I ran from my people, but not anymore.”

“Why not?” Piercing eyes that were full of such knowledge yet held very little understanding of emotion stared back at the Doctor, his questions tapping into an unfathomable well as the alien stood frozen before him.

He never spoke much about the war, not unless he had to. He’d done everything he could to keep it to himself, to never mention the nightmares or the flashbacks. He hated the man he’d become. What he’d done, the decision he’d made, there was no coming back from that no matter how hard he tried.

And now standing before him was a man who by comparison was so young, who had never been thrust into war. A man who didn’t have to make the choices the Doctor had over and over and over again. How could he understand what he’d done? The things he’d had to do? How did anyone even admit to being the sole reason that their entire race was gone?

“They’re dead.” He finally uttered, unable to stand the silence or his own pressing thoughts a moment longer. “All of them.”

“How did they die?” The detective asked, not knowing the ramifications of the words that fell so easily from his mouth. How could he be so unaware of the pain that he inflicted on others when he asked questions that should never be answered?

“You said my eyes were old.” The Doctor murmured, his gaze remaining firm on Sherlock’s. “You said that I’d been in war, and you were right. My people, they fought against another race called the Daleks. An endless war broke out, the Great Time War. And they slaughtered my people.”

And oh, how he used the half truth to hide away the parts he could never admit to. The Daleks had destroyed his home and killed hundreds of thousands of his people. But how many more had he killed? How many innocent lives were caught in the crossfire of one decision? He’d thought it was right at the time, felt it was the only way. But how could he even try to justify things? His hands weren’t covered in blood, his whole body was. Drowning in the crimson of his murdered race.

“Any more questions?” He asked, his voice as void of emotion as he could make it as he locked away the memories and shut the floodgates that had poured open in his mind, forcing the matter at hand back to the forefront of his thoughts.

“I told you it was unwise to ask me what I knew.” The detective stated quietly before turning away and adjusting the coat in his arms. “Your device can locate the others?”

Swallowing down the animosity that Sherlock seemed to dredge up out of most people, the Doctor nodded, forcing a smile that wouldn’t quite stretch wide enough across his face. Holding the device up, the top extended out into the air. “Just point it upwards and-“ His words were cut off by a scream in the distance, a woman’s voice rolling across the field as the Doctor’s hand fell, his blood running cold. “That was Rose.” He murmured, his head snapping to the right as another shrill scream pierced through the air and stole the breath from the Time Lord’s lungs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> The chapters are getting better as we get further in! Mainly because so many months stretched between each update, so now I’m just editing and reformatting. Can’t believe it took so long to figure out that these sites have line dividers.. Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed! We’re officially halfway through the main plot and halfway through the editing! Thanks for sticking with me for so long!


	9. Rose Tyler

In the blink of an eye everything had changed. One moment Rose was standing with her arm against Jack’s and the next she was falling forwards, her knees digging into cement and her hands scraping against gravel.

Sitting up and drawing her hands close, she shoved away the hair that had fallen in her eyes and stared around at the darkness around her. The sun had been out the last she’d seen, yet now everything was covered in the shadow of night. She knew what she’d experienced was a time jump, the feeling similar to when she and Jack had used his vortex manipulator to escape from that bar on Korflac.

Wincing, the blonde pushed herself to her feet and dusted off her jeans. She’d told Jack the bartender was not interested in him but had he listened? No, and they’d had to run for three hours to get away from the army chasing them.

Smiling faintly at the memory, Rose’s eyes lifted to the cloudy sky. The Doctor had been less than pleased when they’d run inside the Tardis all heavy breaths and hurried explanations. But this was different. She hadn’t grabbed ahold of any device, she’d merely been touched by one of those statues. How did they manage to do that?

As the clouds gave way to the moon and her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Rose could see the remains of what appeared to be an old fairground in front of her with woods to her right and an old parking lot around her.

“Whoa!”

Whirling around at the voice, Rose backed a step away as one of the hunters stumbled towards her, his hands outstretched to steady himself as wide green eyes looked around.

“What the hell was that?” Spinning around, he looked around them as his fingers tightened around his gun and Rose watched him warily. He hadn’t seemed overly dangerous, but the way he kept such a tight grip on his gun made her nervous.

“Are you alright?” She asked slowly, catching the man’s attention as he turned back and looked her up and down with a confused gaze.

“Did those things move us?”

“I think so.” She nodded once as the hunter considered her answer.

“Is that just a thing all angels do, stone and otherwise? Wish they’d learn to ask..” He muttered, glancing around a final time before he was stuffing his gun in the back of his shirt and walking towards her.

“Do you know where we are?” She ventured, gesturing towards the fairground as the man came to a stop in front of her and peered over her shoulder.

“Yeah, think so. There’s a lot of these places around, abandoned lots where small businesses tried to take off. Bad idea to use cursed ground though, so most of them failed pretty quick.” He shrugged as if the explanation hadn’t just posed new questions that flooded through the girl’s mind.

“Cursed ground?” Rose gaped, glancing down at her feet as Dean smirked.

“Relax, Sam and I took care of things already. Though I still wouldn’t try and build anything in this area. Pretty damn desolated. Probably will end up as a ghost town before long.” Turning and looking over his shoulder, the man paused and drew his brows together in confusion. “I’m pretty sure the sun was out like, five seconds ago. How far back did that thing send us?”

“I’m not really sure.” Rose shook her head, moving out of the way as Dean began to walk towards the fairground. “You’re really not surprised at any of this?”

“What, the stone angels or traveling through time? Cause no, neither one really shocks me that much.” The hunter declared, rummaging into his pocket and pulling out a small flashlight that lit up the area around them as Rose trailed behind him.

“Think the others are here?” She questioned, catching up to him and walking by his side as the ruins grew closer.

“Not sure, but we landed in the same place and no one else has so my bets on no.” Turning the flashlight to the right, the shadows from half torn tents and broken booths fell across the ground as Rose drew her arms around herself.

“What was it you said you do again?”

“I hunt things.”

“From horror films you mean?”

The man cracked a small smile and glanced her way. “Sort of, yeah.”

“So, ghosts are real then? Cause I’ve met ghosts. Well, I thought they were ghosts. Turns out they were aliens called the Gelth. That’s what happens though, most things you think are real turn out to just be alien.”

“Not in my case.”

Looking up at the man who kept a firm gaze fixed on their surroundings as they passed through the opening of the fairground, Rose let out a soft hum. “So, what sorts of things do you hunt then?”

“You don’t want to know, trust me.” Vibrant green eyes caught her stare and Rose watched as his gaze flickered over her face before turning away and leaving a rush of heat to creep over her cheeks.

“Why not? Because they’re scary?” She teased, hoping to draw out a smile. Instead, the hunter frowned, his head dropping an inch as the beam of light swept over an old dunking booth.

“Because once you know what’s out there, you can’t _un_know it.”

“Sort of like traveling with the Doctor.” She nodded, her fingers tightening around her arms. “You’d never believe the things I’ve seen, I don’t think I’d have believed in them myself if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. But I don’t scare easy, so you can tell me.”

“That’s not what I mean.” He warned, looking down at her as he gripped the flashlight tightly. “All those things that go bump in the night? They’re real. And if you know about them, and start lookin for em? They’ll hunt you down and rip you to shreds.”

A chill ran through the girl as a cold breeze ruffled the torn fabric of a booth and Rose refrained from shying away. “So, ghosts are real then?” She murmured, ignoring his warning as a strained laugh left the man.

“Try just about everything.”

“Werewolves?”

“Yep.”

“Vampires?”

“Mhm. Legends are all bogus though.”

“Really?” She stared, her mouth falling open as she finally got the smile she was hoping for out of the hunter. “And you choose to hunt these things? To, what, kill them?” There was a nervous edge to her words as they rounded a curve in the path, a building that advertised a house of horrors at the end of the lot.

“Someone’s got to.” He shrugged, as if the admittance were nothing more than telling her that he preferred one drink to another.

“So, you kill them than. All of them?”

He seemed to finally catch onto what she was getting at as he came to a stop and faced the girl directly. “Rose, these things we hunt, they hurt people. In fact, they kill them. Horrible, awful deaths. What Sam and I do? We stop them from hurting innocent people.”

Staring up at him, Rose’s arms fell and her hands drew together. “Never anything innocent?”

There was a pause, as if the man were considering the question before he barely shook his head. “We only kill monsters.” He said, though there was an edge to his voice.

“Why though? I get you do it because that’s your job and all, but how do you even start doing something like that?”

The man grew quiet as the light swapped between his hands, the beam bouncing across the path as he narrowed his eyes at her. “Why do you travel with that Doctor guy?”

Instead of answering, a smile tugged at the blonde’s lips as she pulled her hands apart. “I’ll trade you an answer for an answer?” She offered, watching as a smile widened across his face as Dean nodded.

“Sounds like a solid plan.”

Falling into step beside her as they started walking again, Rose pondered what to say for a moment. “It’s exciting.” She finally spoke up, tilting her head as she ran her fingers across the back of her neck. “Every day is a new adventure. Different planets, whole solar systems. Things that I’d have never imagined were really out there.”

Rose explained, brushing aside a lock of hair as she laughed quietly. “And the Doctor, traveling with him, he does so much for so many people. I’ve seen him save entire worlds, and never for the thanks. I’m just a bit of a tag along really, same as Jack, I think he gets lonely, the Doctor. But he shows you a different way to live your life, one where people live and thrive, and it’s fantastic.”

Looking up at the hunter when she had finished, she noticed the strange look that he wore, green eyes studying her before the smallest smile appeared and he was glancing away. “Sounds.. exciting.”

“It really is.” She nodded, biting down on her lip as she felt her face warm again. Why did it keep doing that every time he looked at her in that way? “So, why do you and your brother do it? Hunt the scary monsters of the world?”

“Like I said, if we don’t, no one else will.” Dean stated, shaking his head with a wry smile. “We were raised like this. Since I was five, and Sammy was just a baby. And well, once you’re in the life, there’s no getting out.”

“Why not?”

“Cause there is no retiring from this, no leaving everything you know behind, no matter how much you may want that.” He paused, and a flicker of sadness appeared on his face before a moment later it was gone. “There’s so many things out there that most people are oblivious to, things they never see. And if we don’t stop them, they’ll keep going and keep killing. And like I said, there’s no retiring. You’re in this life until you die or get killed, usually the latter, and it ain’t a picnic when it happens either.”

The resignation in the hunter’s words depressed the girl, saddened brown eyes settling on the man as they grew closer to the one building that was mostly intact. He acted as if he knew how his life was going to end and as if it didn’t even matter. How could he stand to live like that? Like he thought there was no hope for him?

“I get two questions now.” Dean spoke up, derailing her train of thought as she looked away, her eyes settling on her shoes as the light bounced in front of them.

“Okay, go ahead.”

“You got a boyfriend?” The question startled Rose as her head shot up and she stared at the hunter in shock. Dean on the other hand seemed amused, a knowing glint in his eyes.

“That’s really what you want to know?”

“What can I say, I’m curious if one of those two idiots could live up to you.”

Laughing aloud, Rose looked away to hide the flush of her cheeks. “I did, yeah.” She nodded before biting her lip. “I mean, I do. Sort of.”

“Lemme guess, you left him to travel.” The hunter said, the two stopping a few paces away from the entrance of the building that looked as though its front half had been caught in a fire. Rose could only nod in response, a twinge of guilt striking her as the flashlight’s beam shifted to shine through the doorway. “What was his name?”

“Mickey.” She murmured, squinting as she leaned closer to the black hole staring back at her. “Mickey Smith. Hang on, did you see that?” She pointed, her finger outstretched to the inside of the building as Dean leaned over her to look.

Before she could say another word the hunter had his gun out again and she heard the sound of a bullet loading into the chamber as she shot him a concerned gaze. “Relax, I know what I’m doing.” He promised, though she could only imagine what the Doctor would have to say about such a thing as he stepped inside the entrance and shined the flashlight around.

Bits of moonlight cast eerie streaks of light through slats in the ceiling and walls, and as Rose trailed nervously behind the man she could see stacks of wood and old props scattered around.

“Do you think any of them are in here?” She asked softly as Dean kept his gaze focused ahead of him.

“Angels or the ones missing?”

“Either.”

“Betting on one of them.” He muttered as something fluttered past one of the props as Rose jolted, her eyes wide as she moved closer to the man. Maybe she didn’t know him all that well, but she was more than glad to have him there at that moment.

“Do you do this a lot?” She hissed, the man’s body tense and cautious as he walked while his gun and flashlight moved together.

“Yes.” He muttered as the sound of something scuffling erupted beside them and a small shadow ran past their feet. “Son of a bitch!” Jumping back, Dean’s light shined on a rat skittering across the floor as his gun followed its movements back behind a set of props while Rose laughed.

“You hunt monsters and evil but you’re scared of a rat? Would you have preferred a ghost?” She teased as the man’s eyes narrowed.

“Frankly? Yes.” He stated, shining the light around them again as Rose’s hands brushed against her jeans and she paused at the lump in her pocket.

“Oh my God, I forgot I had my mobile.” She scoffed, reaching in and pulling out the device as a faint light came from her phone. “I’m going to call Jack, see where they are.” She said as Dean paused, his head turning to watch her as she quickly dialed a number. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner.” She chided herself as Dean smirked.

“What, not gonna call that douche wad Doc instead?”

Frowning at the name calling, the line began to trill as she pointed a finger at him. “You know, if you’d be a bit nicer, I bet he’d let you travel with him once or twice.”

“Thanks, but I’ve had my share of time travel.” He waved as the device continued to ring.

“Oh come on, Jack! Pick up! Don’t be like that, there are entire planets that you’ve never-“ Rose’s words cut off as the ground beneath the girl’s feet shifted and her body was stumbling forwards. Brown eyes widened in first shock than fear as she fell to her knees and kept going, her body tumbling down the side of a hill as the phone was knocked from her grasp and a scream ripped past her lips as she fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> I wrote Dean so badly the first time around. It was horrible and I feel like any evidence of it needs burned. Severely burned. Hell I want to bleach my eyes just after rereading that crap. Ugh. I enjoy his and Rose’s dynamic though! I kind of view it more as his relationship had been with Jo rather than anything romantic ya know? Like yeah he’ll flirt but she isn’t someone he would actually hook up with. Plus I think if he tried Jack and the Doctor would both kick his ass.. Hope you guys enjoyed! We’re nearly halfway through the story!


	10. John Watson

All he could remember was pain that washed over him in wave after wave and the echoes of someone’s voice calling out to him. One moment he had been standing with his back to Sherlock and the next he’d been falling.

It hadn’t been a long drop, but he’d felt his skin tearing and the warmth of blood soaking through his sleeve. He’d fought to stop it, his hand clamping down over the torn flesh as crimson seeped past his fingers, but he’d quickly lost focus, the world shifting in and out before he was giving into the pull of darkness and his mind became nothing more than memories from the war.

* * *

_He’d known from the beginning that he was more than just a medic. In war, you didn’t just stick to one position and call it good. If it was you and the guy you were with and that guy went down? You took over. That was just the way things worked._

_Unfortunately for John he’d found he was skilled in both fields, being both doctor and soldier. He’d killed people. He’d pulled the trigger of a gun and watched the life leave someone’s eyes at his own hand. It was surreal in a way he’d never found a way to explain._

_Each time he would promise himself that it was the last. He was a doctor, he was meant to save lives, not take them. But then a shout would rise up and gunfire would rain down and any illusion of the kind of man he was fell to pieces._

_John had found that his life had become a revolving door where he tried to justify the lives he stole with the lives he saved. He knew that wasn’t the way it worked, but he found himself unable to accept the alternative. After all, war was an entirely different world. To some he was saving lives when he pulled the trigger, and for others, well, he tried not to think about it more than he had to._

_Drawing his weapon close and maneuvering through the field, John kept his body low to the ground and his eyes on the environment around them. Two of their boys hadn’t returned from their post and they’d sent a small group to find them. John normally wasn’t sent out on missions, but if something had happened and they were still alive, they’d need immediate medical assistance._

_Looking to his left, John watched as one of the soldiers made a motion with his hand, indicating he and another were to venture one way while John and another were to go the other. He knew he wasn’t the only one who felt that things were off, but he didn’t question the order as their group separated._

_Keeping behind the soldier, John kept a steady pace as the medical bag slung across his shoulder beat against his back to the same rhythm as he walked. There was tension in the air that left him feeling as if each breath were being drawn with a sense of finality. Tightening his fingers around his weapon and cutting his eyes towards the man next to him, John wondered if he felt the same._

_There was always caution and fear that went hand in hand whenever they left their camp, but this time was different. The air was too still, everything was too quiet. John’s eyes flickered to where he placed his next step, his breaths slow and steady despite the fear that gripped at his chest._

_The soldier next to him came to a stop, crouching in the tall grass as his eyes darted from left to right. He could feel the nerves rolling off Mack as he paused with baited breath, waiting for something, anything, to happen._

_The dry air wrapped around them and John felt a breath of ease cut through the tension as a light breeze rolled across the field. Maybe he’d let himself overreact. And then, with no more warning than they were ever given, all hell broke loose. The loud popping of Mack’s gunfire had the medic lifting his own weapon and sinking back behind a tree as the man beside him did the same._

_“Damned ambush, bunch of cowards.” The words were forced out in a gruff nature, but there was fear in the soldier’s eyes. Mack spoke tough, but he was barely twenty two years old. He’d left behind a girlfriend with the promise of marriage when he returned home, but the dread that had settled over his face showed he knew the odds of that still happening._

_Flying bullets lodged themselves into the bark of the trees where the men were sheltered and John let out a sharp breath. “If those men were alive, they’re not anymore.”_

_“We need to get back, but they’ve cut off our path.”_

_“And the way we came.” John muttered, looking behind them as another series of shots had him ducking back down._

_“So what’s that leave us with?”_

_“Back where Cardinal and Jaril went, if they haven’t been spotted we might get out that way, just take a longer way back.” He suggested, growing wary of the newfound silence that surrounded them._

_“And if they have?” Mack questioned as the medic’s mouth turned dry._

_“Then we’re dead.” He stated simply as the man across from him nodded._

_Waiting another few moments for a new wave of gunfire that never came, the two men made their way along a trail that was as woefully lacking in cover as everything else. The men that had targeted them seemed to have drifted away, the gunfire resuming but at a further point as they crept low._

_For once, John felt as if someone had answered his silent prayers. They might actually be okay. Those boys they’d set out to find wouldn’t have been so lucky, and he felt guilty over that, but he couldn’t deny the small fraction of hope that had begun to bud in his chest as a breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding heaved out._

_“Watson!” Turning at his name, the medic spotted one of the soldier’s he’d come with to his left with a grim expression stretched across his face. “Cardinal didn’t make it. They came out of nowhere.” He explained ruefully, crouching down next to the two of them as they surveyed an open field that would grant them their escape._

_“This whole thing seems strange.” John murmured as the man nodded._

_“You’re not the only one who thinks so. We need to get back so I can ask just what the hell they were thinking. This wasn’t supposed to be enemy territory.”_

_Glancing over at Mack, Jaril grimaced and made a motion before the three were making their way out with guns at the ready. John could see their next bout of cover ahead of them as the tall grass brushed against his legs and the bud of hope began to spread. Almost, they were so close now._

_“Over there!” Mack hissed, his body turning as gunfire filled the air again and the men were sprinting towards the trees that would at least give them a fighting chance. John was nearly there, a few more steps and he’d be clear and-_

_“Watson!”_

_That was his downfall. He could hear the pain and fear in the voice that called for him as a body fell towards his right and John turned, a hand outstretched that he immediately took. Jaril had blood dripping from his mouth and seeping through his vest but John pulled him closer, determination fueling through him._

_He would get him back, he would help him. That’s what he did. He saved lives. He was not a killer, not a solider. He was meant to aid others, not destroy them. And yet when the time came, he’d failed at both._

_He didn’t register the shot that had been fired until the blinding pain was coursing through his body. It was agonizing, a burning fire that tore through him. Searing torment ripped him apart, biting at nerve endings and causing his vision to fade in and out. His heart was beating louder than the attack, the noise thrumming through his mind as the hand he’d held so tightly fell from his grasp and he was falling._

_In seconds his world changed. All around him was a mess of red and black blurs while gunfire echoed like bombs falling around him. Grass brushed against his neck as he spotted boots marching towards him and the muzzle of a gun rising towards his face._

_As his eyelids grew heavy and everything but his own beating heart began to fade, John prepared himself for what would happen. If he was lucky, the end would be fast. The last thing he wanted was to end up in one of their camps, to be used to gain information._

_Only instead of hearing the gun, it was a strange grinding noise that filled the air, one that he imagined a machine would make if it were trying to breathe. As the army doctor’s eyes fell closed completely, someone in front of him let out a groan and a body dropped beside him._

_“Dr. Watson?” A voice urged, a hand falling to his uninjured arm as it shook him, trying to spur the man into action. “Dr. Watson?”_

* * *

“Dr. Watson!” Pulling open his eyes, dazed blue hues settled on the face in front of him, dark eyes crowded by brown hair filled with concern. “Dr. Watson, are you alright?”

Blinking slowly, John’s eyes drew away from the stranger and moved to look over his shoulder, the sky a thick veil of darkness that was broken only by a small fire that burned to his left. Shifting his gaze back to the man who had called out to him, John swallowed and tried to move, only to be stopped by an all too familiar pain that shot through his arm.

“Careful,” The brunette murmured, an outstretched hand trying to reassure the other as his boots shuffled back an inch. “You lost a lot of blood.”

The American accent was the first thing that reminded him of what happened as the man grimaced, turning his eyes to his arm. The tree he sat against served to support him while the light from the fire sent shadows dancing across the two of them. Weak fingers probed at the injured area carefully as regret flooded through him, pain that sparked a bout of nausea sending the man’s vision hazy as he dropped his hand and leaned back his head.

“What happened?” He winced, shifting his focus to the man who seemed to be the only other person around.

“I think those stone angels sent us here. Back in time maybe? I’m not really sure how, or why, but you landed over there.” He gestured, and John felt a vague memory begin to resurface. “Only you fell, and your arm-“

“Struck a rock.” John sighed, nodding his head as it came back to him. “It hit the artery.”

“I did what I could; I at least got the bleeding to stop. But you should probably have a professional look at it.” The man shrugged, looking over his arm as John’s own gaze shifted back over it.

A piece of torn fabric that was spotted in blood had been wrapped around the wound, and as John carefully untied to knot to get a better look, he found himself looking back to the man in shock. “Where did you get the thread?”

“Oh, I keep a small kit on me.” The man offered, a small smile making his lips twitch in the darkness. “Dean and I both do. With what we do, we never know when we’ll need it.”

Looking back to the gash, John stared in awe. The stitches were by no means done to the standard of a trained doctor, but they had been done with a steady hand and were far better than any normal person might have been able to do under the circumstances. Though all that did was raise even more questions about the stranger across from him.

“You said your name was Sam?” The man nodded, and as he ran his hands along his jeans the army doctor caught sight of dried blood still stained on his hands “What is it you do again?” He questioned, shifting again as the bark dug uncomfortably into his back.

“We’re hunters, my brother and me.” Sam explained, rising and making his way towards the fire. “We hunt things that most people don’t believe actually exist. Ghosts, werewolves, wendigoes. You name it, we’ve probably killed it.”

“You’re telling me that in this reality, those things are real? Vampires and zombies just, wander about?” He asked skeptically as Sam sat across from the fire and braced his back against a fallen tree limb.

“They probably exist in your world too; you’ve just never seen them.”

“Wouldn’t it be rather difficult to ignore those sorts of creatures walking around?”

“You’d be surprised.” He said, a smirk rising to his face.

“If they did, I’m sure Sherlock would be ecstatic.” He muttered as Sam glanced towards him.

“Trust me, don’t go looking for them. Once you know about these things, it’s hard to stay away. Or have it stay away from you.”

“You sound as if you have personal experience.” John ventured as the brunette’s eyes strayed back to the fire.

“I was raised in this, long as I’ve been alive. Then a few years back I stopped. I went to college, I was gonna be a lawyer. But then Dean, he uh, he came and told me that our dad was missing, that he never came back from a hunt of his. So I went with him to go find him.”

“And school?”

“I never went to another class.” The man shrugged, but John felt there was more to it than that.

“Did you ever find your father?”

“Yeah, we did.” Sam nodded. “He uh, he’s gone now though.”

“I’m sorry.” The man offered softly as Sam shrugged again. “Did you not want to go back to school once you found him?”

“That’s not really in the cards for me anymore.” He spoke with a dry laugh, picking up a piece of a broken branch and tossing it into the flames. “Some things happened and me and Dean, we uh, we got some things we’ve gotta deal with. Mistakes I’ve made that I’ve gotta clean up.”

John knew it was none of his business, but as he sat there staring at the man who looked as if he’d committed the most heinous crime in the world, he couldn’t stop himself. “Things so bad you can’t go back to college?”

“Things bad enough to end the world.” Sam muttered, dropping his head and drawing his hands into his lap as he began to pick at the blood staining his skin.

“Really?” John pushed, though all he received as an answer was silence. He couldn’t begin to imagine what had happened that was so bad that it had the man looking as if he were awaiting his death, but he-

“The apocalypse.” Sam finally spoke, cutting off the blond’s thoughts as he drew his brows together in question.

“Sorry, you said the _apocalypse_?”

“Yeah.” The brunette sighed, looking up and trying to force a smile that wouldn’t quite appear. “I kinda kick started it, and now my brother and I are getting pressured into making a decision because of what I did and we’re not really sure how it’s all going to end.”

Okay. Surely when he said ‘the apocalypse’ he didn’t mean an _actual_ apocalyptic event. He was just, over exaggerating. Right? Either way, the stress he felt was evident to the man even without Sherlock there to point it out. “You’re worried about making the wrong choice?”

“More like I’m worried about what Dean will do.” The man grumbled, extending his leg out and resting his arm across his other knee.

John contemplated asking another question, but something told him the second lapse of silence would last longer than the first had as the brunette stared into the fire with a haunted expression. He wore the same look that John had seen men in war carry. What exactly had he been through? On the one hand his curiosity had been piqued, but on the other he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what sorts of things those brothers had lived through.

Settling his own eyes on the flickering flames, John found his eyes drifting towards one of the trees in the distance. Well, he thought it was a tree. The more he studied it though, the more it appeared to be the silhouette of a person watching them.

Blinking to try and see better, John’s body leaned partially forwards and gaped towards the void of darkness that swallowed the trees around them. The figure was gone. In just that brief moment it had disappeared.

Leaning slowly back to where he’d been, his fingers tightened around the wrist of his injured arm as he swallowed down the fear creeping up his throat. He needed to find Sherlock and they needed to get home. People he could handle, even psychotic ones like Moriarty. But stone angels that sent people back in time? That was a new level of weird that he did not want anything to do with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> I think I ended up changing almost everything in this chapter. Also, I have no idea what actually happened to John so I just kinda made up a thing and rolled with it, so there you go, have my weirdness! Anyways, we’re halfway through the story, and I hope you guys enjoyed! Even though I’m not even sure that anyone reads this anymore.. I’m really just trying to finish for my own peace of mind at this point.


	11. Dean Winchester

It was unnerving, the sudden silence that fell as Rose’s words cut off without warning. Dean’s body turned with the light as he looked beside him, finding the woman gone from sight.

“Rose?” He called out, his eyes narrowing and body tensing as the hunter backed a step towards the wall. Flashing the beam of light around the scattered props, he tried to find any sign of her. “Rose!” He shouted, though a piece of him knew she wasn’t anywhere around to answer. “Damnit.” He scowled, beginning to edge his way towards the door. He shouldn’t have let her come in with him. He should’ve known better. Or at the very least he should’ve kept his eyes on her the whole time.

With his next step, a piece of broken wood skittered across the floor as the hunter’s boot made contact with it and Dean flashed his light towards it. As the beam shifted, the softest noise of rustling feathers and shuddering props sounded behind him. He knew better than to assume it was associated with the typical feathery asses that had been frequently visiting him, though he was beginning to wonder if those wouldn’t be better at the moment.

Turning around and shining the beam ahead of him, the Winchester came face to face with the ugliest stone carving he had ever seen. Its mouth was stretched wide in a silent scream, pointed fangs baring at him while dead eyes seemed to watch him angrily. The worst part though were the hands, outstretched and gnarled like the trunk of an old tree. Normally something like that wouldn’t even faze him, but one of the hands were reaching out and its fingers were barely an inch from his face.

“Dude, you fugly.” He muttered, shuffling back while watching it intently. “I’m supposed to keep looking at you, right? That’s what the Doc said?” He spoke aloud, his voice piercing through the otherwise silent building as the light bounced over its body. “You’re one of the weirdest things I’ve seen. Not the worst, not by a longshot, but definitely one of the weirdest.” He kept talking, his eyes already beginning to burn from the force of keeping them open as he continued to put distance between himself and the angel.

With his next step a prop to his left fell, clattering to the floor as another rustling of feathers had the breath hitching in the hunter’s throat. “You got a buddy with you?” He asked quietly, eyeing the statue and working to fight the impulse he had to look and see the threat coming in from the other direction.

“You know, sending people back in time, that’s kinda lame for a nasty lookin douche wad like yourself.” He stated, turning his body a fraction so he could press his back against the wall and look at the angel without anything coming up behind him.

“I wouldn’t mind going back in time, really. Got some things I’d like to change, people I’d like to see. But I got Sammy to worry about, and Cas. So I can’t really go flaking on them. So why don’t we get this over with, let me kill you, and we’ll call it a day alright?” Steadying his gun, the Winchester hesitated as the last words the Doctor had spoken surfaced in his mind.

“Can’t kill a stone..” He murmured, one of his eyes beginning to twitch. “But you’re not stone when I’m not looking, right? So I’m guessing you’re something pretty damn fragile when there aren’t any eyes on you. Course that means bad news for you, cause you may be fast, but I promise that I’m faster.” Dean remarked, aiming for the angel’s center mass. With a quick breath, the hunter began to pull down on the trigger as the light fell away and his eyes closed.

“No!”

At the same time that someone shouted, the bullet ripped free from the gun and the sound of it chipping stone echoed moments before it was ricocheting and flying back, tearing through the man’s arm.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, lifting the light as his hand flew to his shoulder, warm blood coating his fingers as he grimaced.

“How stupid can you be?” The Doctor’s voice chided as he moved in front of the Winchester’s beam of light, fury clear on his face. “That was an idiot move if I ever saw one!”

“Doctor, not now.” Rose spoke sternly, the hunter’s light shifting until it landed on the blonde walking closer. He had seen her just moments ago, but she looked entirely different than she had then. Leaves were caught in the mess of her hair and her cheek and chin had been scratched to hell while dirt was smeared across her neck. Despite the look of her, gentle hands fell to his arm and worried eyes looked over him.

“Violence is not the answer! Violence will only make them angrier!”

“He gets it, Doctor.” Rose stated sharply, pulling away the hunter’s hand so she could see the wound. Pieces of moonlight cut through the slats of the building and illuminated the two of them as delicate fingers pulled at the frayed edges of his shirt that were becoming stained in his blood.

“It was just a graze, I’ll be fine.” He said softly, forcing the irritated gaze away from the Doctor and instead shifting it to the girl who frowned in response.

“It’s not nothing, Dean, you’re bleeding.”

“He’ll be fine.” A new voice declared, the pretentious tone one that had the Winchester wishing he was still alone. Sherlock stood in the doorway with his arms crossed and shoulder leaning against the wood, his relaxed posture contradicting the tense way he kept his eyes on the stone angel between them.

“But he’s bleeding and-“

“It’s not bad enough to warrant any concern. The hunter has a history with incidents such as these and even if it were worse he would still be capable of walking away from it. Something as minor as this is like a paper cut to others.” The detective muttered as brown hues glanced up to the man who barely shrugged in annoyance.

“He’s not wrong. I’m fine, Rose, really.”

“Well this is lovely, isn’t it? Take some time, be domestic! It’s not as though you’ve just infuriated them more, or risked shooting any one of us with that fool move!” The Doctor scoffed, glaring at the Winchester who took a step closer to him.

“What the hell is your problem with me, Doc? You don’t like me or what I do, I get it. But you said you can’t kill a stone, and it ain’t a stone when we’re not looking. If you hadn’t have barged in there wouldn’t have been any risk and we’d have one less of these damned things to deal with!”

“You think death is the easiest option for everything, don’t you?” The Doctor scowled, the disgust he felt towards the hunter obvious on his face.

“Most of the time, yeah.” Dean fired back. “Everything my brother and I hunt, all those things? They’ve killed people; innocent _women_ and _children_ who didn’t deserve to die. Those things are monsters, and they don’t deserve to be given a chance. Cause the minute we do that, the second that we say ‘Hey, Mr. Wendigo! You just ate that entire campsite full of families and pets but you know what? We’re gonna give you a chance to do better!’ Then that next massacre, that’s on us!” Dean roared, jabbing his finger towards the man.

“Am I a monster then?” The Doctor asked slowly, his hands clasping together behind his back as he leaned a fraction closer to the hunter. “I’ve killed people.”

“Doctor, stop.” Rose shook her head, stepping closer and placing herself directly into his line of sight. “Don’t do this.”

“He just said that he hunts monsters, Rose, and don’t you think I classify as one? I’m certainly not human. So tell me, Dean,” The Doctor pressed, peering over the top of the girl’s head. “Are you going to shoot me next?”

The gleam in the man’s eyes caught the Winchester off guard, a darkness in them that the hunter had only ever seen before staring back at him through a mirror.

“Frankly I’m still deciding.” He spat, gripping the handle of his gun tightly as Rose spun around and glared at him.

“No! No one is shooting _anyone_!” She shouted, stalking back over and staring him down. In one fluid motion her fingers wrapped around his wrist and pushed the gun to his side, an irritated frown heavy on her lips.

“There are enough problems happening at the moment without having to worry about you two mucking it all up with your stupid argument! We are still missing four people and we need to find them. Doctor, get off your backside and use your sonic. Dean, put the gun away, there’s no use for it right now.” Rose’s voice rang out with a steady tone of authority, a stern expression glowering at the two men as she backed away and folded her arms, waiting for one of them to object.

Silence lingered for several long seconds before Dean was adjusting the grip on his gun, green eyes falling to her face. “Forget it. I’ll find Sam and Cas on my own.” He muttered, turning his back on the shocked expression that flitted across Rose’s face as the hunter stalked for the door, sliding around the detective who wore a tense frown.

“Let him go, we don’t need him.” The Doctor scoffed behind him as the Winchester bit back a retort, shoving the gun in the back of his shirt as the still warm muzzle pressed against his skin.

Screw them, he didn’t need their help anyway. Hell, they were the ones that had caused all the problems to start with. And it wasn’t like he was incapable of finding his brother by himself, he just hadn’t wanted to leave Rose alone.

“Dean!”

Pausing at the voice, the man looked over his shoulder and spotted the blonde jogging towards him. “Why’d you follow me?” He asked, turning away and continuing to walk. “Finally tired of that pretentious asshole?”

“I wanted to make sure that you were alright.” She spoke sharply, falling into step beside him.

Glancing down at her, Rose’s lips were pressed together in annoyance and her brows had drawn together in frustration. Out in the moonlight he could see her easier, the scratches along her face deeper than he’d first thought, the cuts having drawn blood to the surface along her cheekbone and chin.

“What happened back there, where’d you end up?” He asked, breaking the tense silence as she glanced up, brushing her fingers lightly over the marks on her face.

“About an hour back, I think?” She shrugged, dropping her hand and intertwining her fingers. “I ended up in the woods and fell, obviously.” With a small smile Rose ran her fingers through her hair and stopped in her tracks when she found a leaf, pulling it away in disgust. “Then I ran across the Doctor and Sherlock.” She mumbled, dropping the leaf and quickly combing her fingers through the tangled blonde mess. “I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here, but I wanted to come back and find you if I could.”

The irritation the hunter had felt faded a bit, his eyes resting on the young woman. She reminded him of Jo, or someone Jo might’ve been if she’d never been involved in hunting. A deep ache washed over the Winchester at the thought as he quickly looked away, forcing himself to walk again.

“You should get back, see if you can’t find your other friends.”

“Well, that’s why I followed you.” She spoke up, her fingers brushing against his sleeve before she grabbed the fabric and tugged lightly at his arm to get him to stop. “The Doctor, he’s got this device. A sonic screwdriver he calls it, and I think it can help to find your brother and friend. He picked up two signals, and chances are they’re with Jack or John. I thought.. well I thought you’d come with us.”

“Yeah?” Dean smirked. “And what does your precious Doc think of that idea?”

“You’re as stubborn and childish as he is.” She huffed, tugging her arm away and folding them across her chest. “I’ve just told you that we can find the others and you’re more worried about some petty fight with the Doctor. That’s ridiculous and you know it.”

“I know that I can’t stand the guy, and that the feeling is mutual. I appreciate the offer, but we’re better off going our separate ways.”

“Don’t.” Rose said softly, a pout forming on her lips. “Just come back with me. I swear if the Doctor tries to say anything I’ll stop him, but we need you, Dean. Believe it or not but that idea of yours was clever. The Doctor would never admit it, but it was. So, please? Come back and help us find them?”

Pleading brown eyes stared up at him and the Winchester could feel his resolve crumbling, a quiet sigh breathing out as she smiled, already knowing she’d won. “Fine, but he better not say another damned word about what I do.”

“He will, but I’ll keep him from going too far.” She promised, turning around and starting back towards the other two as Dean rolled his eyes.

“So you followed me just to tell me that the Doc thinks he found them?”

“Sort of? It was more than that though.” She shook her head. “The Doctor, he can get wrapped up in what he believes. He means well, really he does. But he can also be.. difficult. I just, I didn’t like what he said to you. It’s not your fault you do what you do, not really.”

“What do you mean?” Dean frowned as the blonde’s brows furrowed together.

“You didn’t get to choose this.” She stated, her eyes flickering up to him briefly before falling to the ground. “You didn’t wake up one day and decide that this was how you wanted to live your life. I mean, you can’t help how you were brought up.”

“It’s my choice to keep going.”

“Is it?” The question had the man hesitating, a curious glance shot towards the blonde who barely smiled. “I mean, you said it yourself. Once you’re in the life, you can’t go back. But if you could, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you want some form of a normal life?”

An image flashed through Dean’s mind, the smile of a brunette and the laugh of a child. If he had the chance, would he go to them? Would he try for a life with Ben and Lisa?

“I think you would. I may not know you all that well, but no one wants the weight of the world on their shoulders, and that’s what it seems like is happening to you whenever you talk about hunting.” Rose said softly as Dean glanced away.

A normal life. Is that really what he wanted? A wife and a son, a job where he wasn’t constantly at the risk of dying or taking an innocent life by mistake? Of course it was. He would never say it out loud, could never dare to admit it to Sam, but yeah, he did want that. But with the apocalypse, with his brother and the angels and the demons and the whole world being damned, he couldn’t be that selfish. Hell, no one would even let him try. So no, he couldn’t think about a life like that, one where he wasn’t a hunter. Thinking like that would only destroy him in the end.

“You’re too good for that Doctor, you know that?” He commented, watching as the smile she wore widened.

“I keep him on his toes.”

“How did you two meet anyway?”

“Oh,” She laughed as they neared the other two, the men standing inside the door as the Doctor stared at the angel that was inside. “He blew up the shop where I worked.”

“What?”

“Yeah, never really liked that job anyway though.” She laughed again, her steps faltering as she rested a hand against his arm. “Dean, you’re not going to hurt him, right?” She asked, worry tensing her features as the hunter stared. “After what he said about being a monster himself, you won’t hurt him, right?”

There was a long pause before the Winchester responded, pulling away and walking again. “Probably not.”

“_Probably_?” She demanded, walking faster and planting herself directly in his path. “He’s a good man, Dean.”

“According to him, he’s not even a ‘man’ at all.” He uttered quietly, holding her shocked stare for a moment before moving around her. It wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear, but he wasn’t going to lie to her. His brother was more important than the assholes standing there, so he’d work with them while he had to. But if that guy tried anything, if the alien crossed the line? Well, he wasn’t sure what would end up happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> Someone left me the first comment I’ve had in ages and it made me smile SO much. I’m glad that people are still reading this, and actually enjoying it too!
> 
> I have such a fun time writing Dean, and him and Rose together are just so cute. I need more of it in my life. Just big brother Dean all around is precious and Rose is spunky enough that she has no problem telling him to shut up when he is being stupid.
> 
> Enough gushing, hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! We’re getting closer to being finished with the rewrites and then I’ll finally be able to finish the story!


	12. Captain Jack Harkness

“Damn.” Jack murmured, finding himself at a loss for words at the full story he’d finally managed to drag out of the angel beside him.

“As you can see, leaving either of them to their own thoughts for very long could prove detrimental so close to the end.” Castiel stated, a weary look settling over him.

“Listen, they both seem to know the risks of their decision, I mean, when they’ve got all this on their shoulders, how could they not?” The time agent laughed, though it quickly faded when the angel met him with nothing more than a blank stare.

“What I’m saying is that I’m sure they’ll be fine. They’re not gonna make a split second decision in the middle of all this, and if they were, there wouldn’t have been anything you could do to stop it anyway.” Jack pointed out, watching vibrant blue hues dart away as his lips turned downwards in a frown.

He’d hoped what he said was true, but how could he really be sure? The idea of a different reality or a parallel world wasn’t that strange, especially for someone like Jack. After all he’d seen just about everything there was to see, whether on his own or with the Doctor. Or at least it had certainly felt that way. But a world where the apocalypse had been started by a man who’d been convinced he was doing all the right things, and then to have had the weight of fixing it all thrust on him and his brother’s shoulders? That seemed to be too much even for the time agent to get his head around.

Jack had met a lot of important people in his travels. The King of Axel Ten, the man that the legend of Prince Arthur had been based upon, even Adele. But the Winchester’s, they just seemed like normal guys. Well, normal guys with a strange fascination in the supernatural.

Maybe they did have a lineage that dated way back and drew them into that whole mess, but at the end of the day they were just two brothers who had made a few mistakes like any other human did. Should they really be forced to deal with such a massive fallout just because of that?

“Even if we solve the problem now, there’s still no telling what either one of them will do once it’s over.” The angel spoke again, his eyes firm on the ground as he stood completely still. Dawn had begun to shift the world into light and the time agent could see him better, admiring once more the way the small pout he wore furrowed his brows together and made the lines around his eyes crinkle.

“You really think they’ll say yes?” He asked softly, shoving his hands inside his pockets and trying to catch his eye. “I mean, yeah Sam may have started the whole shebang, but they don’t really seem like the type to just give in.”

After having heard everything that had occurred, he’d found that a lot of things about the Winchester’s made more sense. The uptight, untrusting way they’d first greeted them, or the way Dean had been furious over his car being damaged, over his _home_. No wonder they’d been so wary of the travelers, Jack would’ve been too if a mixture of angels and demons were constantly screwing with him and throwing everything possible his way.

“Sam is an abomination, I have no idea what he’ll do.” Castiel stated bluntly, glancing up with an irritated expression. “As for Dean, I just cannot seem to get through to him.”

“I’m sure it will work out, Cas, you just gotta have some faith. I mean as an angel don’t you kind of specialize in that sort of thing?” Jack asked as the irritation faded and a quiet sadness morphed his features.

“I’m supposed to be a lot of things, but it seems I’ve failed in quite a lot of them recently.” The man murmured, his body seeming to sag with his words as Jack clamped a hand down on his shoulder.

“Let’s just focus on trying to find them for now, alright angel?” He offered, turning and walking a few paces away and looking around. They’d managed to make it across the field, but now all that stretched before them were trees leading into the woods that he couldn’t see an end to. It was possible they’d walked in the wrong direction, but that just meant wasting more time getting back to where they’d started.

“The question is how far are we from that motel?” He pondered aloud, folding his arms across his chest in contemplation.

“Jack.”

“We can’t be _that_ far, those things didn’t seem very powerful. I mean did you see them? They looked pretty chipped and weathered, and my guess is they’re not normally-“

“_Jack_.” The angel called again, his voice tense as the time agent glanced over his shoulder.

Spotting a stone angel a few feet from the real one, Jack spun around and started back to the other. “Don’t blink, Cas.” He spoke sternly, turning and looking for a sign of any others.

“I have seen them before.” Cas murmured quietly, stepping away from the time agent and closer to the statue as the man reached out for his arm.

“Don’t get too close, angel, no idea where it will send you.”

“I recognize them. It’s difficult, given the stone features, but I’m sure of it now.”

“What are you talking about?” Jack questioned, tightening his fingers around his arm as he tried to take another step nearer.

“I believe they’re angels.”

“Well, yeah, the name ‘Weeping Angels’ kind of indicated that.”

“No, they’re actually angels.” The man stated, tugging his arm free and straightening his shoulders. “I believe they’re from Heaven.

Blinking once at the declaration, the time agent let out a strained laugh. “Cas, they’re monsters that feed off of time energy, they’re not even really stone they just look that way when we stare at them.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay.. you’ve lost me.” Jack shook his head, stepping closer himself in case he needed to pull him away. “Explain your train of thought here, will you?”

“We were taught as fledglings that the fallen angels of old were cast out of Heaven and sent to hell, that they became the first demons to join Lucifer. But some fled and were lost, never making it to hell but never returning to Heaven.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with-“

“The Doctor, he said they’ve been around since the start of the universe, didn’t he?”

“Well, yes.” The time agent relented, furrowing his brows in confusion. “But Cas, the Earth wasn’t around at the beginning, actually the Earth is pretty new comparatively.”

“But angels are not. I myself am unfamiliar with what other creations my father had a hand in making, but I knew they existed. These statues, these fallen angels, I believe they have gone through time forced to exist in this manner, their own form of hell, for what they did.”

“Right..” Jack nodded, though he wasn’t sure he was actually following where he was going with it at all. “Well, regardless of all that, we’ve gotta find a way to stop them. You agree with that, right?” He asked warily as the other’s head nodded.

“Of course. Though I don’t believe my blade will work on them.”

“What?” Glancing down, Jack found that a knife was clenched in the angel’s fist, a long silver blade that he’d never seen the likes of before. “Yeah, not sure that’s going to be of any help. Though I am immensely interested in where you had that hiding.” He said, a cheeky grin rising to his face before he was lifting his hand and flipping open the cover to his vortex manipulator. “As soon as I get this thing working we’re going, so grab ahold of my arm.” He instructed, pressing a few buttons and tilting the screen towards the growing light.

“Where are we going?” Castiel questioned, his hand stretching out and feeling for the time agent.

“Easy there, angel, there will be time for all that later.” He smirked as the man’s fingers brushed against his bicep before wrapping around his arm. “I’m going to take us back to that motel, if I can get this thing to work for me. The Doctor messed around with the settings of course, hates this thing. Maybe some of the others will be there, and if not at least we’ll have access to the Tardis.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to locate the others first?”

“Course it would, but I can’t lock onto an individual person with this thing, only places.”

“I can help with that.”

Glancing up from his device as the hand on his arm tightened, the sound of wings fluttering surrounded the man. The terrain shifted once more and for a moment he was worried a stone angel had appeared behind him while he wasn’t paying attention. Instead, a different angel had been at work as the flat field shifted into a forest floor covered in sticks and rocks and two surprised men staring up at them.

“Cas?” Sam Winchester gaped as Jack steadied himself and looked beside him as the arm fell away, peering at the angel who braced himself against one of the trees and looked paler than he had just minutes before.

“I’m impressed, angel, nice work.” He praised as dazed blue eyes regarded him briefly.

“You were unable to find the others with your device, so I located the closest group.”

“Well, you did a good job.” Jack grinned, patting the angel’s shoulder and turning towards the hunter with a flirtatious eye. “You brought us directly to the abomination.”

“Excuse me?” Sam snapped, his shock dissolving into anger as Jack winked.

“Don’t worry, I’ve been called a lot worse in my time, it’s actually kinda cute. Now, what’s happened to Dr. Watson?” He asked, turning and looking down at the blond who was braced against the trunk of a tree. Half of the sweater he wore was stained with blood and his arm had been crudely wrapped in the flannel that the Winchester had previously been wearing.

Kneeling down next to him, John turned his head and smiled weakly, his gaze more unfocused than the time agent would’ve liked. “Bad landing. Suppose I’m not as experienced with this sort of travel like the rest of you are.”

It was an attempt at a joke if Jack were to guess, one that he offered a smile to, but the man’s face was drained of color and covered in sweat while his chest heaved in jerking motions that suggested more was going on than he wanted to admit.

“We’ll get you back to the Tardis, patched up like new in no time.” Jack promised, cutting his eyes to the hunter and taking note of the blood that stained his own hands. Lifting his eyes, he met the man’s gaze and felt a small amount of relief at the brief shake of his head that indicated it wasn’t his own. Although, that just meant that John had lost even more blood than he’d thought.

“Angel, you ready to find the others? I think the Doctor will have a better time fixing him up than I will.” Jack asked, turning around and watching the celestial being pull away from the tree and nod.

“Dean and I were in these woods a couple of days ago on a case. We’re a ways from the motel, but there’s this old fairground not too far from here. We may find some of them there if those angels had planned on separating us.” Sam offered as Jack cut his eyes towards the angel.

“Yeah, about those statues.. Cas thinks they might be angels. Like, _actual_ angels.”

“Wait, the stone ones? Cas?” Sam questioned, tilting his head to look around the time agent.

“I believe they’re the angels that were cast out from Heaven, but the ones that did not make it to hell.” He said evenly as the Winchester leaned back and shook his head.

“Wow, guess that’s not really surprising.”

“Seriously?” Jack gaped, his eyebrows raising in shock.

“There’s a lot of stuff going on, stuff I’m guessing Cas mentioned.” He stated, an irritated glance sent in his friend’s direction. “I really wouldn’t put it past Zachariah at this point. Or either side really. A lot worse has come out of all of this.”

“Right..” Jack nodded slowly, redirecting his gaze to John with a small frown. “We’d better get going then, the sooner we find the others the sooner this all ends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> I managed to make this chapter twice as long as it was before. I did have to rewrite practically the whole thing though, man I left a LOT of plot holes.. ah the idiotic younger me who didn’t understand the way things work. I do wonder though what I’ll think of these stories in the next five years. Will I have learned more? I hope so, I hope I continue to grow and do better!
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed, I have such fun writing the flirtatious Captain and Castiel together. If you’re interested leave me a comment, I’d love to hear from you!


	13. Sam Winchester

The sun had begun to rise and the small group that had formed still lingered in the forest. The fire Sam had made had died out, the smoldering embers watched intently by the angel who had been silently fuming since learning that he was unable to take the others where they’d wanted to go. Sam didn’t really get all the issues that Castiel had been having with his powers, but he did recognize that there wasn’t likely to be a worse possible time for those issues to occur.

“He’s getting worse.” Jack spoke quietly from beside the army doctor, a careful hand resting on the blond’s shoulder as a tense expression had his brows furrowing in concern.

“Dr. Watson? You still with us?” Sam questioned, kneeling down on the other side of the man and grabbing his wrist, his thready pulse a poor sign. A weak groan was the only response the other offered, his head lolling to the side as sweat gathered along his temples.

“Is there anything you can do, Cas?” Jack called out, turning to look towards the celestial being who had his hands clasped together in front of him. “I mean, any of that angel healing stuff? Angels can do that, can’t they?”

“I-“

“It’s a long story, but no, he can’t.” Sam muttered, glaring back at the man who regarded him sullenly before he was shifting his gaze back to the remains of the fire. Maybe he was being hard on the guy, after all he’d been cut off from Heaven because he chose to help the brothers with everything, but he was still pissed over the fact that he’d informed a complete stranger about the happenings of their life. That, and the fact that he’d actually referred to him as an ‘abomination’ to another person.

“He’s lost too much blood, he needs some actual help.” Jack sighed, running a hand raggedly through his hair as he looked to the side in thought. “We could try carrying him, but I’m not sure he could make the trip. And I also don’t know how far that motel is from here.”

“Too far.” Sam shook his head, eyeing the half conscious man whose eyelids fluttered weakly. “If we try dragging him around he may start bleeding again and that would probably kill him.”

“You’ve got a lot of experience with situations like this, don’t you?” The traveler commented as the Winchester glanced up.

“Honestly? Yeah, I do. More than I’d like. Though I’ll admit that these statues are a lot less nasty than the things we usually deal with.”

“I’ll bet.” Jack laughed quietly as he leaned back on his hands. “You guys got drug into all this without any say, I’m sorry about that. I’m not sure if the Weeping Angels would’ve bothered you if we weren’t around, but you guys already have enough on your plate without having this thrown in on top of it.”

“Yeah, about that..” Sam began, his fingers picking at some of the dried blood beneath one of his nails. “Don’t mention that you know about this stuff to Dean, would you? He doesn’t take well to our life being advertised. Neither of us do, actually.”

“Cas a big over sharer?” The traveler smirked as Sam cracked a small smile.

“Not really, no. I’m surprised in fact that he told you anything. No, we just ran into a problem a while back where our lives were turned into a source of cheap entertainment and it’s made some things more difficult for us.”

“Cheap entertainment? Like what, a show or a story or something?” Jack lifted his brows as Sam rolled his eyes.

“Books. Really awful, awful books.”

“Someone wrote about your life? How does that kind of thing even happen?”

“He was a prophet.” Sam shrugged, pulling away from the army doctor and pushing back his hair. “He had our lives pretty much broadcasted into his head and he wrote it all down. Like, _everything_.”

“So somewhere out there is a person writing about your life? Like at this very moment?”

“Probably.” The Winchester scoffed, sitting up straighter and clearing his throat. “Just, don’t mention it to my brother. Dean’s already pissed off about his car and I’m guessing he’s not thrilled with the whole time travel thing happening with these statues either, so the less problems he can blame on you guys the better.”

And it was true, in the short time they’d all been together Dean had seemed to hate every single one of them except the girl. Whereas Sam, he actually found himself enjoying the company of John and Jack.

“Yeah, no problem. My lips are sealed.” The traveler promised, his eyes gleaming mischievously as he looked towards Castiel. “For the most part.”

Blinking once, Sam diverted his gaze back to the army doctor. “What are we gonna do about this?” He questioned, changing the subject back to the problem at hand as Jack glanced over.

“I think we should split up.”

“Split up? That’s your plan?” Sam scoffed as the traveler smiled thinly.

“I know, bad idea in most cases. But we can’t drag John out of here, and Cas has to, what did you call it? Recharge? So one of us should stay here and keep an eye on Dr. Watson and one of us should go and try to find the others. Once Cas has rested he can find the others and we’ll get John somewhere safe.” Jack explained, throwing out his hands as Sam frowned in thought.

“Alright, yeah.” He relented. “So how do we decide who goes, you wanna flip a coin or something?”

“I think you should go.” Jack stated, dropping his hands.

“Really?”

“You’re right about your brother, we had one hell of a bad introduction and it’s safe to say that he won’t listen to a thing I say if I find him. At least if it comes from you he’ll be able to trust what’s being said.”

Eyeing the time traveler, Sam shook his head with a faint laugh. “You’ve got experience with this sort of thing too, don’t you?”

“My fair share you could say.” Jack smiled, gesturing behind the Winchester. “I’ll do what I can for John and as soon as Cas is ready we’ll find you guys. If we haven’t shown up in a while just make sure the Doctor knows what’s happened.”

“Got it.” Sam nodded, casting a final look back towards Castiel before he stood and brushed his hands against his jeans.

“Be careful, keep your eyes open.” Jack warned as the hunter nodded again before taking off in the opposite direction.

Rifling through his pockets and pulling out his phone, Sam dialed his brother’s number and listened to the other end ring while he walked, maneuvering through the trees. He knew they were relatively close to that cursed fairground, the two brothers having had to scope out the area a couple of days prior, but he had no idea if anyone would be there.

The town wasn’t very big, with just the motel and a couple of gas stations and one diner, it had become rundown and emptied out from all the poltergeist activity. But he’d had a feeling that they weren’t finished there, and maybe what was happening was why he’d felt that way.

Dean’s recorded voice message played in his ear as the hunter frowned, shoving his phone back into his pocket with a quiet curse. Dean had to be busy elsewhere to have not answered his call, but that just made him wary. Things rarely happened accidently around the Winchester’s and Sam was beginning to wonder if the angels were because of the travelers or a side effect from the apocalypse. Or maybe it was a bit of both. What did they even want?

If they were fallen angels like Cas thought, than whose side were they on? And what was the point in separating all of them like they’d been doing? They didn’t seem interested in killing them, which in truth was a first for Sam, but if that were the case than what was their end goal? None of it made any sense to him. Maybe the Doctor could answer some of his questions, if he could manage to find him.

Spotting the tree line ahead of him and the back of the rundown house of horrors he’d been in the day before, the hunter picked up his pace. The trek back to the motel would be a long one if no one was actually around, and he found himself wondering just how far apart they’d all been spread out.

The sky had brightened with the new day, or rather the day Sam had started hours ago, and fell over the fairground in all its dilapidated glory. In the distance he could see two figures walking with their backs to him, one matching the shorter stature of the woman that Jack knew, and one of his older brother.

“Dean!” He called out, walking faster and beginning to round the side of the building. “Dean!” He shouted louder, hoping to grab his attention as a glimpse of a shadow moved to his left.

Stopping in his tracks and hearing the crack of a branch a few feet behind him, the Winchester drew his gun and turned, his eyes widening at the sight of one of the stone angels near the edge of the woods he’d just walked through. “What the hell are you?” He muttered to himself, taking a step closer as he kept a fixed gaze on the threat.

“Easy.” A voice warned from behind him, the tone vaguely familiar as the Doctor edged into the hunter’s peripheral vision. “One from earlier, watching us.” He could see the stranger facing him, looking him up and down and probably wondering where exactly the blood had come from before he was frowning.

“Put that gun away. Honestly, you American’s are too trigger happy.” He stated sharply as Sam lowered the gun a fraction of an inch, though he was leery of putting it away entirely. Just because the angels hadn’t attacked them yet didn’t mean they weren’t capable of it.

“Unless you plan on shooting solid stone like your brother, put it _away_.” The Doctor chided as Sam frowned, his gaze instinctively darting to him before back to the angel that was no longer there. “You looked away.” The man muttered, turning to look over his shoulder with an annoyed expression.

“Force of habit. Why weren’t you looking?” Sam scoffed, finally relenting and putting his gun back where he kept it.

“I was more concerned with you uselessly firing a weapon.” He stated dryly, eyeing the hunter up and down. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. It’s not mine, its-“

“Come on.” The Doctor interrupted, gesturing for him to follow as the two walked around the ruined building. Stopping near the entrance, Sherlock glanced up from the ground and narrowed his eyes at the Winchester, a calculating gaze shifting to the Doctor.

“Well?”

“It waited nearby. It’s still looking.” He nodded, the conversation one that made no sense to the brunette as he gazed across the field and found his brother and that girl were headed back their way.

A moment later Dean glanced up and a smile was curving his lips. “Sammy!” His voice rang out, his stride turning faster while he took in the younger’s appearance. It was clear the moment it struck him that something had happened, his face clouding and his body tensing. He’d expected worry or perhaps fear, but neither was what had appeared on Dean’s face. No, all that was there was a look too close to disappointment.

“What happened?” Dean demanded once he’d stopped outside their small circle as the young woman stood next to him with her hands wringing together. What had they been talking about? She looked nervous, her eyes flitting from the Doctor to Dean and back again. And what was that harsh stare his brother had fixed him with? He didn’t think he’d actually do _that_ right _now_ did he?

“It’s not mine.” Sam stated tersely, resisting the urge to scowl as he turned to face the detective. “It’s Dr. Watson’s.”

“What? What happened, where is John?” The detective snapped, and for a moment the hunter caught a glimpse of fear and panic darting across his face before a neutral mask settled over him and he was merely staring at him intently.

“Near the edge of the woods.” He gestured, taking a step back from the circle the group had formed. “He cut his arm open when he landed and he’s not doing great, we didn’t want to risk dragging him along. Jack and Cas are with him, we were hoping Cas would get some of his mojo back and be able to bring him to where we are.” Sam explained as Dean frowned.

“Wait, what do you mean ‘get it back’ what did he use it for?”

“He was with Jack. I guess some device he had didn’t work so Cas brought the two of them to where John and I were.” He shrugged lightly before looking at the Doctor. “Can you help him? I did what I could and I got the bleeding to stop but he’s lost a lot of blood.” The detective stiffened next to him and the Winchester cut his eyes towards him briefly.

“If the angels haven’t gotten to them first then I should be able to do something until this is over.” The Doctor responded, retrieving a strange looking cylindrical device from his pocket and pushing a button, the same odd noise Sam had heard earlier warbling out of it.

“You sure you’re alright?” Dean questioned as he took a step closer and caught his brother’s eye.

“Yeah, Dean, I’m fine. What about you, are you bleeding?” He asked, leaning forwards and narrowing his eyes at the sight of his brother’s ripped and stained sleeve.

“Yeah, don’t shoot statues.” He muttered, a wry smile on his face as the girl beside him snorted softly.

“I tried calling you, do you not have your phone?”

“What?” Patting down his pockets, Dean frowned and looked down. “No, damn it. It had to have fallen out when Cas tackled me.” He grumbled as Sam opened his mouth to reply. The words he had to say were lost though as the world around the hunter shifted.

A surge of energy pulsed around him as the fairground gave way to pavement and the man was tumbling to the ground. Grimacing at the gravel that dug into his palms, Sam pushed himself up and stared, the motel and an undamaged Impala a few feet in front of him.

The early morning had given way to the darkness once more and the hunter cursed underneath his breath. How had an angel gotten that close without any of them noticing? Sitting up and brushing his hands off, his movements paused at the sight of a shadow moving in front of the window, the curtains shifting to one side as he spotted himself inside their motel room.

“What the hell..” He mumbled, scrambling backwards across the parking lot with wide eyes.

“Well, it’s about time you showed up.” A voice scoffed behind him as the hunter whirled around, shock causing his mouth to drop open as he stared at the person in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> This was by far one of the chapters with the most plot holes and one of the hardest to rewrite. When I first plotted this story out I had intended to write an entire series with like, ten stories in all? And now I’m like yeeeah no that’s not gonna happen. At least not for a long time. Too many other things going on and it is just so hard writing so many people at once.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed regardless, I only have three chapters left to rewrite! I’m looking forward to finishing those up! Leave a comment if you want, I wouldn’t mind hearing from you if you liked it!


	14. Sherlock Holmes

“This is getting _real_ old _real_ fast.” Dean snapped, glaring hard at the stone angel and the gnarled fingers that were stretched out and frozen in place behind where the man’s younger brother had previously been.

“You’re still looking for it, aren’t you?” The Doctor asked quietly, stepping closer to the statue as Sherlock’s eyes darted to the blank expression carved into its face.

“Looking for what, Doctor?” Rose inquired, moving a pace away from the hunter.

“The key.” He declared, jutting out his chin and staring at the creature while one side of his mouth quirked upwards. “They’ve been watching yet they still haven’t figured out where it is.”

Sherlock refrained from rolling his eyes at the man’s theatrics, knowing full well that the alien had no idea himself as to where his key was.

“Key to what? The hell are you talking about?” Dean demanded, an unwavering gaze remaining on the angel while the Doctor spun around.

“To my machine of course!” He exclaimed, his tone indicative to the fact that he’d expected the hunter to have already known that.

“Well then why haven’t they just taken it from you? Why’d they send my brother off somewhere again?” The man practically growled as the Doctor developed a sheepish expression.

“Ah, yes, about that. Well, they’re looking for it just as much as I am.” He admitted, nearly every eye shifting to him as the hunter struggled to stare at the statue.

“You _lost_ your damn key?”

“Doctor-“

“I didn’t _lose_ it, I _misplaced_ it, there’s a difference.”

“Difference my ass! So what, we’re supposed to just keep popping back through time while they search for something they can’t even get their hands on?” Dean scoffed, his eyes narrowing and hands clenching into fists at his sides while Rose took a step closer to the alien.

“Doctor, you really ought to-“

“You’re one to talk! What kind of idiot _shoots_ solid stone? You don’t even understand the gravity of the situation!”

“I know that if you hadn’t lost your damn key than we wouldn’t be going through this with these things!”

Their voices grew louder as the shouting continued, irritation rising within the detective at their antics. He considered stepping forwards, attempting to make them shut up, but he was intrigued. Standing off to the side watching the both of them was Rose Tyler who was growing more and more aggravated, a tense line wrinkling her forehead and drawing her brows together.

“You’d have me hand over the most powerful machine in the _universe_ to save you a bit of inconvenience?” The Doctor continued.

“Well hey, maybe they’d take better care of it than you would!”

“Shut up! Both of you!” Rose’s voice finally entered the mix, the blonde planting herself between the two with fuming eyes glancing back and forth. “You’re acting like children!” She scolded, turning around and poking a finger towards the Doctor’s chest. “Do you have a plan? If you had the key, do you actually have a plan to go with it?”

“You know I do.” The man muttered back, a softer tone replacing the harsher one he’d used with the hunter.

“Well then you should’ve said something earlier.” Rose muttered, still miffed as she dug into one of the pockets of her jeans and produced a single silver key that almost seemed to glow in the light. “You gave it to me to hold onto, remember? Said you had a hole in your jumper and it kept falling out.”

A beat of silence passed as the Doctor’s wide eyes shifted from his key to the girl and back again. In a single movement the man was lunging forwards and grabbing ahold of Rose’s arms, tugging her towards him and planting a kiss to her forehead.

“Rose! Brilliant, _fantastic_ Rose!” He laughed, a grin spread wide as he took the key from her fingers. Twirling around and thrusting it towards the angel in show, the Doctor stood straighter. “There now, you know where it is. You’re not strong enough on your own though and we both know that, so go on, go back and tell your little friends.” Turning back and striding to the hunter, the Doctor’s hand fell on his shoulder and Sherlock watched as Dean tensed. “Look away, Dean, let it leave. Everyone now, look away.”

“How do you know it will?” The hunter’s question lingered in the air unanswered before the man was huffing a sigh and turning away, a hand rubbing at his eyes. Shifting his own gaze to the side for the briefest moment Sherlock looked back and found that the angel was gone, no sign aside from the flattened grass that it had ever been there in the first place.

“Why are those things so interested in your box anyway, Doc?” Dean griped, frowning towards the key the alien’s fingers were wrapped around.

“They feed off of time energy and the Tardis is full of it.” The man boasted, the key slipping inside one of his pockets while flashing his companion a grin.

“Yeah, it isn’t the only thing full of something around here.” The hunter muttered. “Where did it send Sam this time?”

“He could be anywhere.” The Doctor stated flippantly, though Sherlock kept a watchful eye on the man. It was painfully obvious to him how codependent the two brothers were, if anything happened to the younger a different sort of trouble might occur.

“Anywhere?” Dean scoffed, shaking his head in irritation. “Do you even know where Cas is? Or those other two?” He demanded, the hostility he felt towards the alien rising.

“Your brother was the one who claimed they were near the edge of the woods, not too far I’m sure.” The Doctor stated dryly, disgust towards the man obvious in him as well.

“Well that-“

“John is with the angel and your companion, Doctor.” Sherlock cut in sharply, fed up with the never ending bickering. “Locating them is more important than the squabbling you two seem determined to keep up.”

“I’m not squabbling, I _don’t_ squabble.” The Doctor muttered, looking towards Rose who wore a frown of her own.

“Look, Rose said you could locate them, is that true or not?” Dean sighed, shifting where he stood.

“Of course I can.”

“Then do it and quit yapping.”

Rolling her eyes at the two men, Rose strode over to where the detective was standing and glanced up at him. “They’re absolutely ridiculous. I’ve never seen the Doctor act like this with anyone before.”

“And yet you’re in love with him.” The man muttered wearily, his head throbbing as he looked away from yet another brewing argument.

“What?” The girl asked, her eyes widening at the man who looked down at her.

“It’s clear that you’re infatuated with one and attracted to the other.”

“I don’t think so.” Rose scoffed, though the noise was forced as Sherlock turned and cast his gaze in the direction the younger hunter had come from. “I’m only his travel mate, that’s all.”

“Pretending does very little to convince me otherwise, Miss Tyler.” He stated, shifting his stare back towards the young woman as his thoughts raced.

She was young, nineteen or perhaps twenty at best, and she had only the best intentions at heart, a fact that he found odd given who she traveled with. And though she was fiercely loyal to the Doctor, it was apparent that she found it easy to fight back when she disagreed with him. Clever and impetuous, yet naïve. Did she even have a clue as to what she was getting herself into when she’d decided to join him in that box?

“You follow the Doctor around with little regard to your own wellbeing. You want to impress him, to show you’re just as capable as he is, though you’re not.” He continued, catching the offended look that crossed over her face. Although he’d found that most wore that expression when he pointed out the obvious.

“Perhaps that’s why you choose to flirt with the hunter, another man of exciting yet dangerous interests. You think it will get the Doctor to notice you more, see you as you wish to be seen, though whether that is romantically or platonically is of little concern to me.”

“You may be clever but you really don’t know much about people in general, do you?” She asked quietly, a steeled gaze glaring up at him as her fingers tightened around her arms.

“Coddling a person does them no favors, nor does it benefit me in any manner.” He said bluntly before the blonde let out a harsh laugh.

“God, my mum would _love_ a crack at you! Just because you’re clever doesn’t mean you should go about flaunting it to every person that walks past. Honestly, you and the Doctor, no wonder the two of you get on so well.” She scoffed, turning away as the detective frowned.

“I don’t-“

“Oh my God.” Rose cut him off, brown eyes stretched wide before she shoved past him, her fingers gripping his arm for the briefest moment before she was pulling away and hurrying off. Looking after her, the detective’s stomach lurched at the scene that had caused her panic. Appearing as if out of nowhere were three men staggering between their group and the edge of the woods.

One was the Doctor’s second companion, a tense look hardening his features as he called out, trying to grab everyone’s attention. The angel that was friends with the hunter’s stood there as well, a weariness radiating off of him as he staggered forwards beneath the weight of a third man held up by the both of them. The amount of crimson caught Sherlock’s attention first, the blood staining the light colored sweater, both of his hands, and a streak that ran down his pants.

“John.” He murmured, his feet carrying him forwards with little thought as Dean and the Doctor reached them first, the group lowering his flat mate to the ground while the injured man groaned.

“We couldn’t stay where we were any longer, there was an angel watching us and we couldn’t risk it if any others showed.” Jack was explaining when Sherlock came to a halt in front of them. Conversation ceased as several sets of eyes landed on the dark haired detective, though the only pair he cared anything for were the dazed blue ones that struggled to focus up at him.

“There you are,” John mumbled, his body propped up against Rose while the Doctor knelt beside him. “Bit of a klutz when it comes to time travel it seems.” His voice was strained as he spoke, cracking from the effort. His forehead was covered in a sheen of sweat and his eyes seemed unable to focus on the man in front of him as the early morning light made him appear that much paler.

“We’ve got medical supplies in my car.” Dean offered quietly while the Doctor passed a light across the man’s eyes.

“How are we supposed to get there?” Jack asked, his hands brushing against his pants as Sherlock glanced away, dried crimson straining the traveler’s fingers.

“They’re no doubt guarding my machine now as well.” The Doctor chimed in, sitting back on his heels.

“I may be of some help.” Castiel spoke up, the weariness beginning to subside though he swayed lightly where he stood.

“No offense, Cas, but your mojo hasn’t exactly been top notch lately and we really can’t afford a screw up with this sort of thing. Besides, you wouldn’t be ready to go for a while anyway.” Dean shook his head as the detective looked back to his flat mate, the man barely paying attention to what was being discussed around him.

It had barely been a week since the incident with Moriarty. Barely a week since John’s life had been put in danger and here he was being thrust into it once again.

“What, no comments?” John’s voice carried over, dredging Sherlock from his thoughts.

“You should’ve taken more precautions.” He stated, taking a step closer to the man.

“Ah, and there it is.” Glassy eyes rolled around in the blond’s head before settling back on the detective, the same fire they’d always carried still burning bright. “Explain to me how exactly someone prepares for being _teleported_, Sherlock?”

Fair point, though he refused to admit to it. “You’ll be fine. Mrs. Hudson will have a fit when she sees you though.”

“She’ll blame you no doubt.”

“Yes, most likely. That woman seems to find solace in blaming most incidents on me.”

“Most incidents _are_ because of you, Sherlock.” John grumbled, wincing as Rose shifted beside him, her fingers curling around his arm as the conversation grew louder behind them.

“I’m not fixing that thing, the last time I did you nearly got Rose executed!”

“That was one time Doctor, and it was an accident!”

“What about what happened on Arcane Eight? That was definitely _not_ an accident!”

“Doctor, this isn’t the time to argue about this, all you need to do is sonic it up!” Jack fought, holding out his wrist to the alien where a thick leather cuff was displayed.

“Sonic it up? _Sonic it_\- No! That thing is a menace and a disgrace to time travel. Not to mention-“

“Doc, if it helps just do it! We don’t have time for this and you’re just being a stubborn ass.”

Glancing between the two, the Doctor stood glowering at them for ganging up on him before he was snatching ahold of Jack’s wrist and aiming his device down at it. “This is a temporary fix, it will lock onto the Tardis and get you close enough, but you’ll have to go far enough back that those angels don’t catch you, understand? And no gallivanting, we’ve work to do.” He grumbled, dropping the man’s hand and shoving his device back into his pocket.

“I don’t gallivant, Doctor.”

“You did back on Arcane Eight.” He stated, the two exchanging a look before Dean was clearing his throat.

“So this thing is gonna teleport us like those angels did?”

“Basically, but it will be a smoother trip.” Jack nodded with a proud grin.

“Cheap form of travel no matter how you look at it if you ask me.”

“No one did, Doc.” Dean shot back before clapping his hands together. “Alright, let’s go.”

“Hold on tight, Winchester.” Jack smirked, extending his hand and waggling his fingers at the hunter who jerked his head up.

“You’re joking, right?”

“You’re the one who said there wasn’t time to waste, Dean.” The Doctor chirped out, obviously enjoying the other man’s discomfort.

Letting out a heavy puff of air, Dean’s hand slapped into Jack’s and the detective caught sight of the widening grin the traveler fought to keep at bay. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Sure thing. See you later angel.” Jack called out, glancing back at the celestial being before pressing a button on his wristband. In a flash both men disappeared, leaving behind a heavy silence among the rest of them.

“What do we do now, Doctor?” Rose asked, her hands resting against the detective’s friend whose eyes had fallen shut.

“The worst thing in the world.” The alien stated, glancing around at the remaining few. “We wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> I feel like the Doctor and Dean are those friends that constantly argue and bicker and insult each other but they’re actually really tight. Like the first time someone calls the Doctor an ass or Dean an idiot the other jumps in and is all like hold up there buddy only I get to say that to them. And imagine Dean with Ten, ugh those two would cause so much trouble and still roast each other constantly.
> 
> Two chapters left to rewrite, but I’m moving in about three weeks so updates may come a bit slower for a while until I’m settled with internet in my new place. Thanks for reading!


	15. Castiel's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> You know what’s really sad about this, is that there’s really only six chapters left of this. Six chapters, and I STILL haven’t finished this. Didn’t I start two years ago? Wow. I suck, and I’m sorry. Basically I wrote this on Instagram years ago and there were sooooo many plot holes that I just blatantly ignored, and now, looking back on them, I realize I have to fix all that. Kinda wish I’d actually paid more attention BEFORE I started the first few chapters.. but hey, we keep buggering on. Thanks for everyone’s patience and for everyone who still reads, it really does mean a lot to me to have your reviews and support!

“He’s going to get us all killed.”

“Stop pouting, Doctor. Jack’s watching out for him.”

“Oh, great. Puts my mind at ease. A trigger happy hunter and a man who flirts his way out of every situation. You can’t seduce a stone, Rose.”

“Mm, now _that_ would be impressive..”

She trailed off, eyes downcast to the ground as Castiel watched silently from afar. He hadn’t wanted to let Dean go and he didn’t like not knowing where Sam had ended up. Those two were on the brink of starting the biggest war the earth had ever seen and both of them were now unaccounted for.

What would his brothers and sisters do? That was a foolish question; he already knew what they would do. How it angered him to see them fighting so far on either end. Why couldn’t they leave the Winchester’s alone? Things would get immensely worse if either of them said yes, and the human causalities would skyrocket. Love humanity, that’s what they were told to do. Yet no one followed that rule, that commandment.

“Cas!”

Tilting his head, the angel squinted at the woman standing in front of him, worried eyes looking him over in a way that reminded him strangely of Anna. Or rather, who Anna once was.

“Are you alright?”

“Of course,” He answered simply, head straightening as he peered across the way at the detective and the war doctor. “I believe your concern should be on Dr. Watson.”

“The Doctor’s giving him a once over. You look pale too though.”

“It’s merely my human form, I am fine, I assure you.”

He promised, watching as brown hues deviated to his outfit before returning to his face.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“No.”

He stated, watching as her fingers pushed together.

“When I was with Dean earlier, he told me about, well, everything. But he said that Michael and.. you know.. they needed permission to like, take over.”

“Yes,” He nodded, standing as straight as ever as he stared at her. “For an angel to take over a human form they must first gain permission from the human themselves. Without consent, an angel may not use that human as a vessel.”

“So..”

She trailed off, still staring at him as the angel tilted his head a fraction.

“Are you questioning my own form?”

“Sorta, yeah.”

“His name was Jimmy Novak, and he was a devout believer. When I tested his faith, he succeeded. When I asked for consent, he complied. He willingly gave himself over.”

“Is he dead?”

A new voice asked, the Doctor standing a few feet away now with crimson staining his hands.

“My vessel?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, he is.”

“Did you kill him?” The silence lingered as Castiel squinted again, the answer unable to be answered to its full capacity. “Did you-“

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think? What is with you hunters? You think it’s okay to just go round killing people as you please?”

The Doctor scoffed, his arms rising in the air.

“The Winchester’s do not kill _people_ they kill monsters. Innocents rarely get involved unless they’ve involved themselves of their own accord.”

He stated calmly, sensing the anger and tension in the air as the alien stared harshly.

“You stand up for those hunters a lot. How did you get involved with them?”

“I was chosen to raise Dean from Perdition.”

“Raise Dean from..”

Rose trailed off as the Doctor took a step forward.

“You raised Dean from _hell_?”

“That is correct.”

“Dean was in hell? Doctor, how-“

“Dean made a deal with a crossroads demon to save his brother.”

The angel stated, watching as the woman’s face morphed into one of horror.

“How can he be _alive_ if he was in _hell_?”

“It-“

“Doctor.”

Sherlock’s voice cut him off, the detective kneeled next to his flat mate. The blondes face was covered in sweat, his breaths shuddering out as he cradled his arm against his chest, his shirt half covered in his own blood.

“He needs a hospital.” Rose murmured, walking closer and kneeling down, her hand reaching out and pressing against his cheek. “Cas, can you do anything?”

The angel hesitated, fingers fidgeting as he took a wary step closer.

“I cannot.”

“Why not? Don’t angels have special abilities or something? He really needs help.”

Rose pressed, sitting up on her knees as Castiel shifted his eyes to the ground.

“When I chose to take the side of the Winchester’s, when I chose to betray my family for the sake of humans, I was cut off from Heaven for my rebellion. In doing so, many of my powers were stricken from me. Including my ability to heal those in need.”

“Great timing for that, eh?” John murmured, blinking a couple of times in a dazed manner. “I’ll be fine. Just need rest.”

“You need a proper hospital.” Rose disagreed, looking up at the Doctor pleadingly. “If we had the Tardis we could take him somewhere safe.”

“It’s too long of a trek, the angels know we have the key, they would stop us. Unless..” The Doctor trailed off, looking back to the angel. “I’ve got just a bit of regenerative salve left from Metallurgis 5 on my ship, it might do to aid Dr. Watson. But I’ve got to get there without those angels trying to stop me. Can you help with that at the very least?”

“Yes, traveling such a distance should be no problem.”

He confirmed despite the prodding in the back of his head. He could hear Dean laughing, commenting about how he lost his angel mojo.

“Fantastic! Let’s go.”

The Doctor said, clapping his hands together as Rose stood and trailed behind him.

“I’m going too.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

The alien commented as the blonde glared at him.

“Yeah, you do. Or you and Dean will rip each other apart.”

“You have so little faith in me.”

“I can’t imagine why. I’m going.”

“Fine, suit yourself. We’ll be right back, Dr. Watson. Hang in there.”

The Doctor promised, standing frozen as Castiel walked towards them and placed a hand on either of their shoulders. Concentrating on the desired location, the sound of wings fluttering resounded as his feet left ground before touching down again moments later.

The angel heard a sound of awe coming from Rose, words he couldn’t quite make out being uttered as his body lurched forward, all control gone as two people caught ahold of his arms and lowered him to the ground. There was a pestering voice nagging in his ear, but light and sound were mixing together in a mass of-

“Cas!”

Focusing on bright green hues, he stared at the Winchester kneeling in front of him, a frown set deep in his face.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Helping.”

He muttered out, sitting up as the Doctor’s hands pulled away.

“Last thing we need is your unconscious feathery ass slowing us down.”

He scoffed, giving the angel a once over.

“My ass is not feathery.”

Castiel stated, his tone miffed as the Winchester cracked half a smile before pulling away from him.

“Yeah, he’s fine.”

“How long have you guys been here?”

Rose asked, stepping closer to the tree line, the group hidden from the prying eyes of the motel.

“An hour. You two fight _a lot_.”

Jack commented, motioning towards the Impala where a past version of Dean slammed the door and blasted music through the open windows.

“We’re brothers, he pisses me off, what do you expect?”

Dean scowled, shifting where he stood as Castiel folded his hands together.

“You mean we’re back at the beginning?”

Rose asked, turning to look at the Doctor.

“It appears so. We were sent back in time so many times everything has gone a bit wobbly.”

“_Wobbly_?”

Dean repeated, a look of disdain clear on his face as the alien rolled his eyes.

“I understand that the concept of time travel doesn’t set well in that tiny human skull of yours, but try not to be so thick and use common sense for once, would you?”

Rose stepped forward, a hand resting on the Doctor’s arm as she glanced apologetically at Dean.

“He likes to insult other species when he’s stressed.”

“Yeah? I don’t think you ever told me what exactly you are, Doc.”

“I’m a-“

“Whoa!” In a burst of energy, Sam Winchester stumbled and fell forward, eyes wide as he looked around. “I’ll never get used to that.”

“Sam!” Dean surged forward, any banter he’d had with the alien forgotten as he looked his brother over. “You alright?”

“Yeah, Dean, I’m fine.” The younger assured, attempting to wipe dried blood from his hands. “Where the hell are we?”

“Back at the start.” Dean motioned, pointing towards the parking lot where the Tardis could be seen flying into view. “I can’t watch this.” The hunter grimaced, turning away as the sound of glass and metal echoed through the lot as Dean visibly flinched and shot a glare at the Doctor. “Ah, baby..”

“What are you guys doing here? And where’s Sherlock and Dr. Watson?”

“We came back to get medical supplies from the car. But wait,” Turning, Dean narrowed his eyes at the Doctor. “Why are you three here?”

“The Doctor has something that can help Watson.”

Rose informed, a smile wide on her lips as she stared at the man.

“I thought that’s why we were here.”

“You don’t have the key.”

The Doctor stated, holding up the small silver item as Jack frowned.

“I would if you’d get around to making me one.”

“Oi, frequent flyers only!”

“It’s been weeks, Doctor. Besides, you gave Rose one!”

“She can be trusted.”

“And I can’t?”

“Don’t flirt with the next moving creature you see, then we’ll talk.”

“Boys,” Rose sighed, gesturing to the Tardis. “Shouldn’t we get going?”

“The angels,” Castiel spoke, forcing his weary body up from where he’d been sitting. “They’re coming.”

“We can’t interfere with our past selves, that’s asking for trouble. We have to wait, allow things to play out as they had before, then we can go.”

The Doctor explained, peering out from behind a tree as Jack smirked.

“I look good from this angle.”

“Oh, that’d be your dream come true, wouldn’t it? Two Jack’s.”

“I think that’s your dream, Doctor. Or maybe Rose’s.”

The man said, winking back at the blonde.

“In _your_ dreams.”

She shot back, though the faint blush that ran across her cheeks told a different story.

“Look away from the Tardis.”

The Doctor instructed suddenly, turning his back to the motel as Rose met the angel’s stare before doing the same.

“Think those things will come this way?”

Sam asked, crossing his arms and turning as his brother reluctantly did the same.

“Doubtful, but we need a plan all the same. Or rather, bait.”

Turning to look at the Winchester’s, Dean met the aliens gaze and scowled.

“What, your first instinct is to sacrifice us? How convenient.”

“Someone needs to keep staring at the angels so I can get inside my machine.”

“Alright, have Captain Sparrow over there watch.”

“He needs to come with me so once I get the salve he can go back to Watson.”

“Well-“

“I’ll go with you,” Rose offered, turning to look at Dean with a firm nod before looking over her shoulder at the Doctor. “If two of us go, we’ll stand a better chance, right? One person can watch while the other blinks, that’ll give you more time, too.”

“Rose-“

“It’s a plan, and a good one. With us working together, nothing will happen.”

She reassured him, taking a step back towards Dean as the alien shook his head.

“You and your _boyfriends_. Fine! But be careful.”

“Boyfriend?”

Dean asked, arching his brows at the blonde who merely sighed.

“They’re gone.”

Jack spoke, pointing to the field where the angels stood gathered around the hunter’s car.

“Let’s get going.”

The Doctor said, reaching into his pocket and grabbing the key from earlier as Dean and Rose exchanged a look.

“Let’s go.”

The hunter sighed, striding out into the middle of the parking lot as the blonde hurried to catch up with him.

“You’re in for a treat.”

Jack spoke to Sam, a glimmer of something in his eyes as the four quickly made their way towards the alien’s machine. Out of the corner of his eye, Castiel could see Dean and Rose standing a few feet apart, their eyes keeping watch over four stone angels.

“Watch your step.”

The Doctor warned, unlocking the door to the box and pushing it open.

“Kinda small for.. oh.. my God..”

Sam’s voice murmured out as the hunter stepped inside, followed by Castiel. The inner dimensions of the ship were enormous, completely different from the small exterior which didn’t seem possible from the outside.

“It’s huge.. it’s, it’s bigger on the inside but.. I don’t understand how.”

Sam stumbled out, turning around in a circle as he stared at the pillars that towered high above and around them as the hum of the engine caused a dull glow to appear beneath their feet.

“It’s alive.”

Castiel spoke with reverence, walking closer to a large control panel in the middle of the room where the Doctor stood grinning.

“Alive? I thought it was a machine.”

“It is! But the Tardis is alive, just like he said. How’d you know?”

“I can hear it.”

The angel spoke, his fingers outstretching and drifting carefully over the stand the panels sat in.

“Hear it?”

Jack questioned, brows knitting together.

“Just as I can see the souls of God’s creations, I too can hear the echoes of a life, even one as strange as this. Can you not hear it, Doctor? It’s calling out to you.”

His head turned, looking straight at the man now as his expression sobered, the Doctor’s fingers moving carefully over one of the panels.

“Sometimes. Not often, not in the way I’d like.”

“Not to distract from this.. really strange moment, but aren’t we supposed to be getting something for Dr. Watson?”

Sam spoke up, standing stoic in his place as his eyes continued to explore the machine.

“Right! The salve.” The Doctor bounded into motion, moving to the other side of the controls and dropping to the ground. Grabbing ahold of a latch and pulling up a grate that was part of the floor, he dropped down and rooted around a moment before pulling up an old crate. “Bunch of nonsense I thought, the grand chief offering me such a thing. Never used it, even after all these years. At least it’s getting use now, though.”

He rambled on, digging through the crate before producing a small vile with a thick, purple substance inside.

“That’s going to help him?”

“This can mend just about anything if given time. The people of Metallurgis 5 were quite the healers.”

“Meta- _what_?”

Sam asked, his face contorted into a strange expression as Jack smirked, his hand falling on the Winchester’s shoulder.

“You boys don’t get out much, do you?”

“Are you telling me that there’s actually life on other planets? Like seriously?”

“You think we were lying?”

“Lying, believing a delusion, working for the government.”

Sam trailed on as Castiel stood quietly, his fingers still brushing against the console. The hum of the machine was straining, an old and long history, quite like his own, hidden beneath its surface.

“Humans are so pretentious, believing their specious is the only one out there. You’re so vulnerable this way, yet no one bothers to change.” The Doctor griped, walking over and taking Jack’s wrist, his cylindrical device once more in hand. “One last trip and then this thing is done, understand?”

“You don’t want to take the Tardis?”

“I’ve other plans for it, now can you shut up and let me work?”

“He’s a big ol’ softy underneath that gruff exterior.”

The traveler assured Sam, a grin wide on his face as the droning from the Doctor’s device echoed throughout the craft. It was strange, feeling the Tardis become livelier as he used the object, as if it were connecting to it in a way. It made the angel feel odd, as if he were treading on something he shouldn’t. He’d never felt something quite as powerful as this, or rather he hadn’t in a long time, not since he was a fledgling.

“There! One return trip.”

The Doctor exclaimed, passing off the vile to the time agent who carefully slid it into his pocket.

“I’ll go with you.”

Castiel spoke suddenly, forcing his fingers away from the console.

“Cas, you sure?”

“I’ll never turn down an offer from an angel.”

Jack grinned, offering his hand out to him as Castiel stepped forwards.

“Yes. This machine is.. strange.”

“It takes some getting used to.”

The Doctor shrugged as the angel shook his head.

“No, it’s not that. It’s _loud_ Doctor. It’s voice. It wants to be heard, so it’s screaming for you to listen.”

The statement has the alien falling into silence, his eyes drifting to the console as Castiel grabbed ahold of the time agents arm.

“Right, well, off we go.”

Jack murmured, pressing a button on the band he wore as energy surrounded them and the two were stumbling forwards in front of the detective and army doctor.

“It’s about time.”

Sherlock snapped, rising from where he had been kneeled next to his flat mate. His coat had been folded carefully and stuck beneath the other man’s head, the veteran lying unconscious on the ground with a dark stain along his arm that was seeping towards his chest.

“Move, let me see him.”

Walking closer and kneeling down, Jack carefully peeled away the ripped pieces of fabric that the blood had partially dried too, tossing them off to the side and revealing the bloodied wound.

“What is that substance?”

Sherlock asked, peering closer as Jack took the vile from his pocket and pried open the top.

“That regenerative salve the Doctor had been talking about.”

“I understand that, I’m not an idiot. What is _in_ it?”

“No clue. But if the Doctor says it will help, it will.”

Before anything else can be said, Jack poured the contents over the wound, John flinching at the contact as the purple liquid glowed, spreading evenly across the entirety of the wound and seeping into his skin.

“Is it working?”

Castiel questioned, staring from afar at the three of them. It was nice to have silence in his head again, but he still felt guilty that his own powers hadn’t been of use when they most needed it.

“Seems like it,” Jack shrugged, closing the vile and returning it to his pocket before facing Sherlock. “But there’s nothing more we can do until the Doctor shows up.

“And when exactly will that be?”

The detective muttered impatiently, folding his arms over his chest as the air around them shifted, a strange noise echoing through the air like a heavy wheezing as Castiel turned his head, the sound returning to his mind, poking and prodding to be heard.

“Right now.”

The angel spoke aloud, watching as the strange blue box began to materialize right in front of them.


	16. The Doctor's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> I’m making a real effort to try and post to all my fanfictions more. I’d really like to start a few new ones, but I’m refraining until I wrap up some of the older ones.  
Would anyone be interested in more SuperWhoLock, or any variation of the shows? I have a few more in the works, but I’d be curious to see if you guys have any ideas or anything you want to see, so let me know and send me a message or leave a comment!  
Also a big thanks to the super old comment I found online that explained why exactly Dean isn’t able to just smash apart the angels, cause that almost happened!

The quiet hum of the Tardis’ engine trilled moments after Castiel and Jack left, leaving the Doctor alone with his machine and the more tolerable of the two hunters.

The Doctor’s fingers brushed over the exterior of the console, the lights pulsating for the briefest moment before fading away again, the machine conserving its energy in the strange parallel world it had found itself in. What exactly did the angel mean when he’d said it was calling out to him?

Tapping his fingers against a panel, the alien stared at the various levers and knobs in contemplation. Should he spend more time alone with the old thing? He’d been traveling with Rose so much recently, and now with Jack, he’d barely spent any time with repairs or new additions. Was she feeling neglected?

“Hey, Doctor?”

The unfamiliar voice calling from the other side of the room distracted him from his thoughts, glancing up in irritation at the hunter who was leaning over the railing and peering down below.

“What?”

“Do all aliens have this kind of tech? I mean, how is this even possible, having such a massive area shoved into a tiny box?”

Turning to look at him, the alien almost smiled at the amazement on the man’s face. It was always his favorite part, watching humans react to his machine.

“It’s Time Lord technology. My people created it.”

“But, _how_?”

“Dimensional transcendentalism.” The Doctor offered shortly, taking a step closer to the brunette as his eyes narrowed, a question dancing around in his head that he’d yet to have been able to ask. “Was your brother really in hell?”

He could tell immediately that he’d struck a nerve, the man stiffening while his hands tightened around the bars of the railing. Sam’s head turned a fraction, a sharp breath pulling out of him.

“Yeah, he was.” He confirmed, turning around and leaning back against the rails, though his gaze remained firmly on the floor. “I died, and Dean, he made a deal with a demon to bring me back.”

“How long was he there?”

The Doctor pressed, noting the guilty way the Winchester seemed to shrink in on himself. Was it because he’d done it to save his brother, or because of something else?

“Forty years before Cas pulled him out.”

“Metaphorically, you mean.”

“What?” That had the man turning, confusion etched across his face. “No, like, literally. Dean has an imprint on his shoulder of Cas’ handprint.” The answer hadn’t been one the alien was prepared for, his mouth open a fraction as he tried to determine what to say next before Sam was moving to the doors. “They’re still out there.”

“Right, not for long though.” The Doctor assured, bouncing back into action as he pulled the door open and popped his head outside. “You two just going to stand there all day?”

He shouted, watching as Rose’s hand grabbed the hunter’s arm a moment before she was turning to look at him.

“Do we come back now, then?”

“Not unless you plan on going back in time again, get a move on, haven’t got all day!” He beckoned, ducking back inside his machine and bounding to the controls, flipping a lever up as the lights pulsated and the engine grew louder.

“Actually, we do have all day, but can’t stand to wait about.” He said, grinning madly at Sam as lights flickered to life all over the machine and the hunter watched in awe. “The old girl gets a bit out of sorts going to parallel universes now, but she’s had a bit of time to rest, so she should be ready to go.”

He explained, moving to the other side of the machine and pressing down a button and spinning round a dial. “Hurry up!” He yelled again, spinning a screen around to get a reading before he released a heavy sigh. “A cascade of Macra move faster than those two.” He complained, moving back to the doors and yanking them open as Rose’s back shoved into him. “There you are! Bit slow, aren’t you?”

“You try walking backwards without blinking.”

She scoffed, shoving her hand into his chest as Dean bumped into the other door.

“You sure this thing is big enough for all of us, Doc?”

Dean called out, his hand reaching around to feel for the opening as he backed inside. As soon as he was in, the Doctor pushed the door shut and gave him a roll of his eyes.

“Do I think it’s big enough, you tell me.”

Spinning the man around and pushing him forwards, he heard the audible gasp as a triumphant smirk rose to his face.

“W-Wha.. But I don’t.. Sam?”

The Doctor walked up the ramp past him, the older hunter casting a questioning gaze at his little brother as he walked towards the console slowly while Rose stared in amusement.

“I know.”

Is all the younger said, leaning back and watching his brother walk around the console and stand next to the controls.

“This thing is huge! How the hell did you cram it inside such a tiny box?”

“Time Lord technology.”

The Doctor stated again, enjoying his shock despite the utter annoyance of the hunter’s personality that clashed with his own.

“This, I gotta admit, is pretty damn cool.”

Dean laughed, running a hand through his hair as he looked up at the ceiling.

“You should see the swimming pool.”

Rose chimed in, receiving an equally shocked expression from both Winchester’s.

“Hold on, you’ve got a swimming pool in here?”

Sam gaped as the Doctor grinned. 

“Six, actually.”

Dean shook his head slowly, dumbfounded at the machine as a loud banging from outside grappled for their attention.

“Doctor?”

Rose asked warily, her hands grabbing ahold of the console as the machine shook, a shadow passing over the windows by the door.

“Doc, I think those things are trying to get inside.”

Dean warned, taking a step back as the Doctor flipped a switch, the lights flickering overhead.

“I know, don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry? No offense to this awesome assed machine, but those wood doors won’t hold through much more of this.”

Dean pointed out, the machine shuddering again as another loud bang echoed from outside.

“Those doors have kept out the worst of the worst, trust me.”

He stated calmly, pressing a button as the Tardis shook again, shifting to one side as Dean scrambled to grab ahold of something.

“_Trust_ you?”

“Yeah, trust me. I’ve got one of those faces, don’t I?”

“No, you don’t.”

Dean answered dryly as the Doctor glanced at his reflection in the screen and frowned.

“I didn’t used to have such big ears, you know.”

“Doctor, now isn’t the time!”

Rose yelped, her grasp on the console failing as the Tardis was shifted to the other side, the blonde losing her footing as Sam caught her and pulled her closer to him and against the railing. The Tardis let out a low thrum as the Doctor rolled his eyes.

“I’m aware, don’t get like that with me, haven’t you heard of patience?” Another toll as the man sighed. “Right, course not. Here we go then, hold on!”

Ducking around to the other side again, the Doctor spun around a wheel and pulled down a lever, the Tardis thrumming loudly as its iconic wheezing noise droned, the alien smiling as the shadow disappeared from the window and the Tardis set down heavily once again only moments later.

No one moved at first, the hunters’ wary eyes meeting each other as Rose pulled away from the younger with a quiet thank you before walking closer to the doors.

“Well?”

“Go see for yourself.”

The Doctor gestured, smiling triumphantly as his companion pulled open the door and peered outside.

“That’s incredible!”

She cried, stepping fully out of the machine as the Winchester’s followed after her.

“Now how in the hell did that happen?”

Striding out after the other three, the Doctor folded his arms and stared smugly in front of them. Where the Tardis had been previously, four angels stood frozen, each staring at another and permanently locked in place.

“They’re all looking at each other, that’s genius.”

Sam laughed, stepping closer and walking around them slowly.

“Guess it was a smart idea.”

Dean begrudgingly admitted, glancing at the Doctor who merely bobbed his head in response.

“Of course it was brilliant, two of the most brilliant minds in all the known universe came up with it.”

“Whatever. There’s a crowbar in what remains of my car,” A pointed look was shot in the Doctor’s direction, the hunter still angry about the damage. “We’ll smash these things to pieces and be done with it all.”

“No.”

“What do you mean _no_?”

Dean demanded, glaring at the Doctor who dropped his arms and straightened out his jumper.

“I mean, no. It’s not possible.”

“It’s stone, Doc, pretty sure if you beat it hard enough, it’ll break. Hell, blowing it up will do the trick if nothing else.”

“Don’t be daft, when I say it won’t work I mean it _won’t work_.”

The hunter seemed unable to speak for a moment, shaking his head and pointing at the alien.

“You do whatever the hell you want, but these things aren’t going to be given another chance.”

“Shooting it didn’t work, what makes you think smashing it to bits will?”

“You know something I don’t?”

Dean asked as the Doctor rolled his eyes.

“Always. They aren’t stone.”

“But you said-“

“They _look_ like stone, sort of like an after image. They’re quantum locked, they literally cease to exist when being observed, leaving only the image of a stone angel behind. It’s simply an impregnable substance.”

“So what are we supposed to do, just leave this in the middle of the parking lot like it’s nothing?”

“As time goes on, they’ll grow weaker, unable to retrieve the energy they need and fading from existence. So yes, until then, they have a new, somewhat odd, sculpture.”

The Doctor shrugged, turning away from the hunters and the statues as Dean grumbled behind him.

“Fine, whatever.”

“I think that’s the first time you haven’t argued back.”

Rose teased, her voice drifting back to the alien as he walked back to his Tardis, a tightness forming in his chest. She always did that, always thought the best of people and gave them a chance, even someone like that hunter.

Humans were so weak and vulnerable and foolish, and yet there was this girl, someone who went against everything he’d ever thought. Someone who went against his expectations time and time again and-

“Doctor!” Turning, the alien watched the blonde bounce into the Tardis, an excited grin on her face as she reached out and grabbed the console. “You did it, that was amazing!”

“You helped.”

He said, smiling at her as she pushed the hair from out of her face.

“We should be getting back to the others, don’t you think? We should check on Dr. Watson.”

“Oh, yes. Go tell the Winchester’s to hurry along.”

The Doctor beckoned, the girl smiling wider before bounding back outside, calling for Dean as the Doctor began setting the coordinates. She really liked that hunter, for whatever reason. Was there a chance, did he dare even think she might go with him? Surely not, not when he had so much more to offer and so much more of the universe to show.

“So all this is over then? No more angels?”

Sam asked, walking inside the Tardis, his gaze still moving around as if he couldn’t get over what he was seeing.

“No more angels, except for your friend at least.” The Doctor assured, waiting for the door to close before flipping the final lever. “Now let’s make sure Dr. Watson is still with us, eh?”

He asked, the Tardis’ familiar sound a reassurance to his ears as he stared at his companion chatting quietly with Dean, that flirtatious smile ever present on her face.


	17. Notice

Hey, guys!

Technically there are still four chapters left to this story, but they're more 'filler' than anything else, as the main story line has finished. The further I get the harder of a time I'm having dealing with not only plot holes and poorly edited chapters, but the story itself is nearly impossible to finish without contradicting previous chapters. Due to this, I've decided to put the story on hiatus while I go back and edit the previous chapters.

I started this story years ago on another platform, and as I've mentioned before, I didn't do a great job in meshing it together and left many things up to chance and circumstance. I would really like to fix these, and make the story stronger as a whole, as I still feel like this is an interesting concept and leads to many possible stories in the future.

I don't know how long the process will take, which is why I did wait until the main story was complete, but I hope you all will bear with me and still read the updated chapters as I do plan on changing multiple things. I'm hoping that by the end not only will I be able to finish the whole twenty chapters to their finest state, but that it will actually make sense fully!

Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me and continued to read thus far, I hope I do well by this and make it an even better story!


	18. Chapter Fourteen Update Notice

I always have such fun writing Dean and the Doctor arguing. They have a sort of Doctor/Mickey relationship only Dean isn't afraid to really fight back with him. I need an adventure with him and Ten, I feel like that would be really entertaining. Anyways, only two chapters left to rewrite! Getting down to the end finally! I am moving in a few weeks though, so updates may end up being slower for all my stories. Thank for reading guys!


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